Percy Jackson: Nicox(M)Reader
by compactdisc66
Summary: The reader is male. Picture credit: /1732199
1. Chapter 1

_Swish_

Rebound.

Run to the other side.

Shoot.

_Swish_

Back and forth, up and down the court. I panted hard, wiped the sweaty hair from my face, and turned back around to face the rest of the dimly-lit court. The burning in my lungs let me know it had been about three hours since I started. I love that ache crawling up my legs into my arms. It lets me know everything's ok. Everything is right.

Just a couple more rounds. The noise of the basketball hitting the floor resounded throughout the empty gym. Breaking into a sprint, I raced down the court to the other basket, enjoying the new adrenaline rush. At the last second before the shot, I switched to my left hand and dunked the layup.

_Swish_

I grabbed the rebound before it touched the ground and was about to run back to the next basket. But when I turned around, about two feet from me stood a boy. Immediately I noticed that he was at least three inches shorter than myself. Then I took in his black hair, hard brown eyes, and completely black attire. He was staring at me with this look of exasperation, like I'd "done it again", whatever "it" was.

"You reek of demigod."

It was so silent with the exception of my ragged breathing that I wondered if he had really spoken. Or was I hearing things? But he seemed like maybe he was expecting a reply of some sort. So I gave a short nod, shifting my weight and holding the ball in one hand. My head was going faster than it could really process. His voice is soft, melodic. I think it's intoxicating me. Suddenly I was so self-conscious about my appearance: old basketball shorts, a t-shirt like five sizes too large, sweat pouring off me, hair probably sticking flat to my head. Ughhh. He didn't say anything more, just stood there looking me over like I was supposed to _do_ something.

So after a few more seconds of strangely not-weird silence, I continued to run down the court to make my layup. He stayed put, watching me rebound and run back. I finished my rounds and I'm not gonna lie, I showed off a bit. I'm not even sure why. But I felt my gut wrench, and for some reason in this case it meant I had to jump higher and do reverse shots until my head was spinning.

His presence was like a wet wool blanket on my back as I grabbed my bag and shoved the basketball into it. I thought about showering in the locker room, but with him here it would feel weird. So I pulled the strap over my shoulder and turned to acknowledge him as I headed for the double doors hidden in the darkness.

"Wait!" I stopped my exit and looked back to see him speed-walking towards me, obviously trying not to run. He shoved his hands uncomfortably in his jacket pockets, the previous cool cover lost behind uncertainty. "Aren't you gonna ask how I know? About you being a demigod and stuff?"

I shrugged and pushed open one of the heavy metal doors, allowing the cold night air to evaporate some of the sweat from my heated skin. "I wasn't planning on it," I answered as I stepped out onto the pavement and held the door for him. As my fingers gripped that door and I stared down at my black and white shoes breathing in the freezing air, for whatever reason there was panic raging inside me that he wouldn't follow me out. That I'd be closing it on him standing there. Like butterflies on steroids in my stomach.

But I heard his footsteps against the sidewalk and was able to release my breath. The door closed heavily behind us, and before I could begin walking he brought himself quite close to me, so that I couldn't move forward. I think he was trying to be assertive. It was working. Which is weird, because he had to look up to give me his current stern glare. "You're sweating," he said simply. I didn't even process it. I pried myself away from thinking of the fact that I could feel his breath on my face. "A lot. There might be monsters around. Even I could smell you." He swallowed and glanced away for a second, and I could've sworn I saw a light colour tinge his cheeks. But in the dark there's no telling what was real and what was my imagination's fantasy.

"I appreciate your concern." That almost came out a whisper. I shuffled back a little to release myself from the tension of closeness. "I'm not dying tonight, if that's what you're worried about."

He sighed, but didn't move. I scratched my head, unsure of what to do. "But... I could use the company, if you're not doing anything at the moment."

And thus is my meeting of Nico di Angelo.


	2. Chapter 2

"A son of Apollo should know better than to smoke."

I took a last puff of the cancerous stick before dropping it on the cement and crushing the remains to ashes. The sun was playing peek-a-boo behind tumultuous stormy-grey clouds today. It was a rather quiet back-road we were taking with few cars and therefore little noise with the exception of the occasional crunch of frozen grass beneath our feet. "I do. Doesn't mean I can't sin too. Even the gods make mistakes," I sighed out, looking everywhere but at his most-likely-disappointed face. "Why should demigods be any less susceptible to them?" I love smoking. And I'm conflicted, because I love my little brother too. I've been fooling myself thinking that he's gonna be OK, that I have it "under control". That smoking when he isn't around has fixed the problem. I want to believe that _so bad_. My lungs want to believe it. But I can't kid myself.

He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. "You make too much sense," he grumbled out. I think he sensed that something's up. He kept silent the whole rest of the way until we reached the day care center. I hold open the bright red door for my vertically challenged friend, but he shakes his head and shuffles his feet. "I'm just gonna wait out here," he says, a small smile on his face.

I'm not sure what this means. So I just nod and enter, and walk up to the registry like I always do. Samantha, the receptionist, smiles a tight smile at me, letting me know it's been a long day. I send a small wave to her as I sign my name and head down the long and brightly-coloured hallway. At the end the cutest little blonde-haired boy is playing with some Thomas the Engine toy table with a bunch of other (and not nearly as adorable) kids. He has the most uniquely green and huge anime-eyes I've ever seen, and the perfect curved little nose and small-toothed smile that so far is the only thing that can melt my heart into a puddle in my soul.

Those green eyes find mine and his smile widens until he's laughing and I've got him upside-down and tickling him to death while he shrieks and giggles and we're causing such a commotion, but I don't care. "Put me down!" he manages through laughs, and I find myself smiling without realizing as I set him down and hug him. He hugs back with his tiny little arms and I pull away to look seriously into his beautiful eyes. "I brought a friend with me today. He's waiting outside."

His eyes widened even more and he looked down the hall where the door was. "Who, Son?" he whispers with incredulity lacing his voice. He says that because my stepdad says it. And my stepdad says it to make me feel like I'm definitely part of the family, no question about it. It's a little difficult though. Everything feels strange, if I think about it too much. Because Mom left forever ago, after marrying Garret and having Joel with him. And Dad- well of course he couldn't stay. As is apparently common in situations similar to mine. But you can't blame the guy. And he doesn't ignore me or anything. We talk sometimes. I guess.

I stand and take his hand to lead him out. "You'll have to see for yourself," I whisper back at him. I set him on the desk and he has a small conversation with Samantha while I sign again, and then we're out the door.

Nico was standing by the door, facing us as we walked out, jet-black hair waving softly in the wind. He looked so stern standing there in the cold, grey surroundings, and as a Son of Hades it seemed so fitting. I was kinda scared of him then. And curious at the same time. I thought maybe Joel would be scared too, but he was more solemnly aware of this person's newness in relation to him. He lifted his free hand to bite his thumb nail as he does when he's nervous.

Nico smiled warmly and bent down to Joel's level. "Hey there," he whispered, holding out a hand. "I'm Nico. I'll be seeing you a lot now."

My stomach did flips.

"My name is Joel," Joel said with enthusiasm, getting over his shyness. He smiled back a wide, eye-squinting smile and held Nico's hand rather than shook it.

I hoisted Joel up over my head to rest on my shoulders, enjoying the grip of his fingers in my hair. Nico wasn't going to walk all the way home with us, but Joel had a fun time singing for him and talking to him and Nico seemed OK with him.

The next fifteen minutes were amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

I silently handed Mandy her cup of icecream and began mushing mine into a creamy paste with my plastic green spoon. She rolled her eyes dramatically at me and led me to one of the nearby benches, sitting cross-legged in the frozen seat. I followed in suit, glad that my long coat protected my legs from the ice-burn of the metal through my jeans. "Your butt is adorable," she said through a mouthful of peanut butter zig-zag, watching the cars pass by a few feet in front of us.

I adjusted my position on the bench and scooped up a spoonful. "Likewise," I answered before licking my spoon tentatively. One, Mandy and I dated at one point. We just decided the relationship wasn't working as "more than friends" or whatever, so we took it back a step. So I'm pretty sure comments like her previous one mean nothing. We talk like this all the time.

And two, I don't get icecream often. So this is like a new experience every time I have it.

I pull my coat closer to the back of my neck to shield it from the soft but biting wind. I feel like I need to run. Either that or smoke. Mandy uses the spoon as a shovel to dig into her icecream repeatedly, every once in a while looking up at the constantly grey sky or to the cars making their way down the road or at me and into my bowl to make sure she's not out-eating me. Her long blonde hair is beautiful. I think that's what first caught me is her hair. When we met at a Relient K concert, it was short, like pixie-cut. But it was an amazing, naturally pale blonde that couldn't be any more angelic. Now she has it long on her left side, short on her right. Still that incredible colour, though. "How are things with Robert?" I ask, working my fingers to keep them warm.

"He's OK," she answered, picking at the remains of what used to be 12 ounces of icecream and toppings, now melted mush in her bright yellow bowl. "I don't know what his deal is though. He acts like he likes me but sticks with Carmen like glue. I'm not taking any moves until they're separated, first of all because I like Carmen, she's cool, and second because I'm not that kind of girl." I could've finished the ending of her sentence for her. She's always "not that kind of girl". She's told me what she isn't so many times that I'm not really sure what she is. I guess it's fun to guess. "I kinda like him though. If the chance presents itself and it isn't under precarious circumstances, I'm taking it."

I nodded and shoved some more of the sickeningly sweet liquid into my mouth so that I wouldn't have to answer. I'm not good at relationship-related talks. I only asked because I know that kind of stuff is important to her. It always has been. "We should start heading over to the gym now," I said, standing and chucking the near-empty bowl into the trash by the bench. It's already 6, and the school closes at 7:30. I pulled out a cigarette and lit the end, cautiously protecting the small flame from the wind. A puff of smoke released itself from my mouth. "I just need to run a few, maybe we can do some one-on-one, then I'll just shower when I get home. More time for playing."

"OK." She jumped up and tossed her bowl away, lacing her arm in mine and tugging me in the direction of the school. "Sounds good. I may beat that adorable butt of yours, so I hope you're not a sore loser."

I find a smile working its way across my lips, a laugh escaping me. Even as a non-demigod, she knows she can't beat me. She laughs along with me, pulling me around the corner of the park to the school's empty parking lot. "Don't worry, I'll be a good sport about it," I answered, letting go of her hand to run up and hold the door for her, stomping on my little-used cigarette on the way. She punches my arm lightly and runs inside, slipping off her heels to stretch her bare feet against the cold, glazed wooden floor and grabs a ball from the basket to the side. I slide out of my jacket and pick up a run around the court, breathing in and out heavily, allowing myself to fall into that trance. It's incredible how everything just disappears when I run, or play basketball, or an instrument, or listen to music… Like now is real. Like I'm really experiencing time, self-awareness, all that jazz.

I have to swerve out of the way of the basketball coming a hundred miles an hour in my direction. I stop running and glare and Mandy playfully, chasing the ball down the side of the court. She laughs and skips her way to the middle of the court, brushing her hair out of her face. "You've been running for like ten minutes," she complained, hugging herself and pouting. "I couldn't wait any longer."

Then the look on her face changed- to that look she puts on to mask what she's thinking. But it's obvious that she doesn't want you to know something when she wears it. "Actually I think I have to babysit tonight," she said, walking over to her shoes by the doors. "I forgot about it. Sorry, man. But I'll be there tomorrow, rooting for you."

I held the ball under my arm and watched her fasten her heels back on, marveling at how well she could maneuver in them. "No problem. See you tomorrow."

And she was gone.

I bounced the ball, admiring the echoing sound it created. I was planning to scrimmage, but now my partner's gone. Soooo… Maybe I could just practice my shots. Or run some more.

"Thought you'd be here."

I looked up to see Nico partially hidden behind the bleachers in his usual black attire, shuffling his feet. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, a backpack slung over his shoulder. Looking as collected as always. Mandy probably saw him creeping around. She's good at reading moods, emotions. I wonder if something's up with him. "Yeah," I responded, bouncing the ball again. "Can you play at all?"

He glared at me like I'd insulted him. "Ha-ha, very funny. You're like four feet taller than me." But he set his backpack down and removed his jacket, making his way slowly over to the center of the court.

"More like three inches," I commented, checking the ball.

He caught it and threw it back, sighing heavily. "Like it makes a difference," he grumbled, getting low.

I faked right and cut left, easily making a layup. "It makes a huge difference," I answered, grabbing the ball and throwing it to his unmoving form. I internally laughed at the look of surprise/grumpiness/whatever-ness on his face as he caught the ball and just stood there.

The high butterflies ejected themselves into my stomach again. I had to say something. Words burned at the back of my throat, until they pushed themselves out. "Could you come to my game tomorrow?" And then I was incredibly nervous again. That panic raged within my head until it split into a headache. I need a cigarette. Please answer. Doesn't even have to be positive, just answer.

"Yeah, sure. I'd like to."


	4. Chapter 4

I held my quiet little brother in my arms, bouncing him around a little as we left the gym to make him laugh. I love seeing him smile. The sweat from the game had dried in the cool fall air and I felt myself beginning to shiver instead. During the game, Mandy and Nico had met somewhere in the bleachers. He figured she was a friend of mine when he saw her holding Joel. Now Mandy walked beside me to my right, facing Joel, and Nico hovered around my left, solemn and quiet and emotionless. Which means he either was really apathetic about the situation or he was upset about something. But who can tell? "Did Mandy give you the chocolate?" I asked as I wiped away the thick evidence slathered all over his face. His eruption of giggles gave him away, and I turned to Mandy with a playfully accusing look. "Well now I know never to let you babysit him again."

"You can't separate us!" she exclaimed, taking Joel from my arms and skipping out of reach. "We were meant to be together!" He laughs and tries to escape her shower of kisses, squealing that he'd rather stay with me ("Son") if he had to choose. And then he stops laughing and looks very sadly into Mandy's eyes and whispers that he didn't like saying what he just did and that he loves her a lot.

It's times like these when I realize how angelic my brother is.

When we reached Mandy's house, she handed me Joel and kissed my cheek in the process. We do it sometimes when we say goodbye. And then she was inside and it was just me and Joel and Nico walking by ourselves down a not-so-crowded street towards the apartment. Joel was falling asleep on my shoulder. I could feel his warm, constant heartbeat throbbing into my neck.

"You were amazing today," Nico's low, calm voice breaks through the quiet. "I don't know too much about basketball, but even I can tell that your defense is crazy good. Nobody made their layups with you as center." Silence. "...Not to say that your offense was any less good. You made at least a third of the total shots. You're not afraid of attack, which is cool."

I sighed and hefted Joel higher on my shoulder, feeling the craving for smoke in my lungs envelope my brain, fogging my thoughts. Everyone's always going on about how great I am in basketball or in music or in anything that isn't fair because I have a "divine advantage". I hate that. Like the only thing that's good about me is what I can't help. "I suck at putting the plays into effect," I said. "I was messing them up, not in the right place at the right time. I need to work on stronger shots. I could have better stamina. I also can't whistle or paint to save my life, or focus on anything for more than a few seconds, or learn a new language although I've been trying since the third grade-"

I just stopped talking. The frustration in my voice hung in the atmosphere as we walked. Then I felt bad about rambling just because I needed to let off steam. I can usually contain it and get it out without inconveniencing anyone else, through running or playing music or working or writing or practicing fighting or _something_ besides taking up someone's time. But with Nico things just get out of control.

"...I don't think I went about hitting on you the right way."

I picked up a sleepy Joel all wrapped up in his favourite blanket and carried him through the tiny living room to our small porch, one level from the ground. He woke up just enough to hug me around my neck and observe where we were headed. Once I had shut the glass door and sat with my legs hanging through the railings, he began to yawn and ask me questions, as he did every night. "Just tiring," I answered in response to the common "How was work?" question. "No towers of cans fell on me tonight." This caused him to giggle sleepily as he recalled the time I broke my leg at work. "Look what I was able to get for you." I pulled a small twizzler still in the wrapper from my sweatshirt pocket. His tired eyes widened slightly when they saw his favourite candy. I tore open the top of the wrapper and broke off a small piece for him. "You can finish the rest tomorrow, don't worry."

"Where is Nico?"

Goosebumps formed over my skin from the cold. I made sure the blanket was tight around his shoulders as I answered slowly. "You fell asleep on the way back from the game. He had to go home."

"I like Nico."

"...He's a likeable guy."

"Do you like Nico?"

I didn't trust my own mouth to say what I was thinking. I rocked Joel back and forth, holding him with one hand against my chest. The sounds of Garrett moving paperwork around inside could be heard as gentle waves of rustling. The TV popped on, some news lady giving a report of a murder through layers of static.

_Hitting on you..._

I didn't want to confront it, because it would just cause a problem. But I'd have to answer to those butterflies in my stomach sometime. I was hoping it wouldn't be so soon.

I never keep anything from Joel. Maybe from myself. But never from him.

So I lifted us off the cold stone and stepped through the glass door, giving Garrett a small wave as we passed into the bedroom Joel and I shared. I placed him in the bed, pulling up the covers as high as they would reach without covering him completely. I turned off the lights, knowing that it would be some time before I went to bed with all the schoolwork to do.

Before I left the room, I leaned over my brother, whispering into his ear. "Can you keep a secret?"

He breathed in heavily, sleepy breath covering my face and eyes moving beneath lids, envisioning dreams I wish I still had.

"I think so."


	5. Chapter 5

During the free period, students were allowed to attend any class they wanted, or just sit in the lunchroom and study. I'd think that I would spend it practicing basketball or running or playing one of my instruments. Yet I always find myself in the computer room. I went there so often that the desk I used in the very back was now labeled as _my_ desk. The computer science teacher likes me, I think. Mr. Brewster is a young guy a little shorter than myself with short, layered, deep orange hair and huge glasses and he always wears a tie to work, even when the other teachers relax a bit. And I guess I enjoy the quiet: no one else goes there unless they need to finish a paper or charge something. Or ask me for a favour. Apparently I'm the go-to for dj-ing, music playlists, and late essays. I can make a few bucks doing it. This particular day I was typing a report someone needed done by the next period on the branches of the government. I had his notes on the desk beside the laptop and was finishing the last few closing sentences.

Just as I hit the "print" button, I felt a presence behind me. Immediately I assessed the situation. It couldn't be a human because there was only one door to this room, and it was at the very front. There was no way for it to get behind me without me seeing. So it's either a monster or a demigod. But how would a demigod just appear here? If it's a monster, my contract should keep me safe though… Maybe he's busy protecting Joel and can't get to me. I did tell him that Joel comes first…

So I whipped around with a hand braced on the desk and a roundhouse kick heading straight for the face.

It was Nico.

In that split second, when I recognized his face before he had even registered shock, I had to make a decision. There was no stopping the force in this kick. Either take it to the wall, or trust that Nico will duck.

A few seconds later I felt pain shooting through my left leg, like searing heat being shoved into a knife-wound. The same kind of feeling I had when I broke my right leg at the store. I was on the floor now, squeezing my eyes shut, focusing on not screaming. Through the ringing in my head I could hear Nico saying random things like "Woah," and "Did you just block your own shot?" and "Is it broken?". But the instant he put his hand on my shoulder, everything felt better. Like a sedative. I slowed my breathing and opened my eyes to find Nico extremely close to my face. For a second all I could think about were his crazy big eyes full of concern for me.

"Man," he whispered out, drawing back from me. "I thought you were dead."

"It's just a broken leg," I answered, breathing in and out slowly. Good thing I finished that paper already. I shifted my weight to my right arm as I prepared to stand. "Can you take me to the nurse's office?" I asked, reaching up to grip the table for support.

He took it instead and pulled me up, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. "No problem. I'm really sorry, I didn't even think about freaking you out. I just shadow travelled here. I wish you'd just busted my face, because now you can't play basketball or anything-"

He spoke like this all the way there, making sure my leg didn't touch the ground and telling me that he'd bring me ambrosia to heal me faster and that he didn't have any at the moment and that he should but he'll get me some for sure and that he should have warned me about shadow travelling before doing it out of the blue- or literally out of the black. He apologized at least ten times in the slowly-walked twenty-foot journey from the computer room to the nurse's office. Luckily everyone was in their desired classrooms and I was hidden from intrigued gazes and pestering questions disguised as concern. Even without ambrosia, my leg would heal faster than normal: being the son of Apollo, who just happens to be god of healing, has it perks.

The nurse took me and Nico stayed there even though she kept giving him looks. I told her I had tripped over my desk and had enough force to break my leg against it. Nico kept his cool, collected face on, but I could feel the guilt seeping from his aura. She helped me scoot out of my pants, and pain or no pain I was well aware that Nico was able to see more of my legs than I was ever planning on. Fortunately I distracted myself from his blush and my blush and the overall awkwardness by holding in yelps and moans in response to Mrs. Churchill's hands skillfully feeling my leg for the exact place the bone broke.

A half hour later I walked out with a new cast, some crutches, and a note saying I could leave early. Nico helped me gather my things, leave a note for Steve (the kid whose paper I typed), and escorted me out the door in the direction Joel's daycare. I was supposed to pick him up today, and I couldn't inconvenience Garret while he's at work. So Joel would just have to leave daycare early. Nico seemed slightly surprised that I didn't contact anyone about coming to get me, but didn't question it.

The first few minutes were silent. Just the _clack_ of my crutches against the sidewalk and the gentle _thud_ of my backpack against Nico's back. It felt strange to be back on crutches. I think the worst part is not being able to run. Last time I broke my leg, I was chainsmoking like crazy because it was either that or run, and it's obvious where that left me. I was always out because I didn't want to be near Joel like that. Which isn't fair to him at all. I can't do that this time. Something's got to change.

I have to quit.

"I'm really sorry about your leg." I turned to look at Nico's shaggy hair, hands stuffed in his pockets, staring me straight in the eyes. "I'll bring ambrosia."

"I won't need it. My leg will already heal questionably fast. I don't want to draw more attention to it."

I think he wanted to do something just to feel like he balanced the scale, made things right, at least instead of doing nothing. Perfect timing. The craving for a cigarette had built up substantially since we had left the school. I stopped and turned to face Nico, making sure my face revealed how important this was. He slowed and stared back solemnly, waiting for me to say something.

"I will want to smoke like crazy," I began. "Because I can't run. But I'm hurting Joel and myself and potentially everyone I meet." I reached around my crutch into my back pocket and pulled out the almost-new pack I had recently bought and handed it to him. "I'd appreciate it if you acted as… as like an accountability partner or something. I'm sorry in advance if I get irritable or emotional. I don't care what you have to do, but don't let me have another one, no matter what I say or do or anything. Do whatever you have to in order to prevent me from having one. Beat me up, tie me up, knock me out, anything."

He looked slightly bewildered at my suggestions. But I couldn't trust myself. I had to quit for Joel. "Why are you trusting me with this stuff?" he asked, taking the cigs and putting them in his own pocket. I'll admit as I watched them go it felt like a hole was forming in my head. "Why not Mandy or your parents or something?"

I started walking again, adjusting my crutches to a more comfortable position. He followed me, keeping steady pace. I pretended to be confused, in my head, like I wasn't sure why I chose him. I ignored that I really knew why. Because I was too scared to come to terms with it. But I pretended I was confused about that as well.

"I don't know."


	6. Chapter 6

I struggled to grip both my bow and my crutches with my right hand without falling on my face. The roots and bumps of the mini-forest didn't help. I come out here a lot, to this secluded area behind the apartment building, just to practice some shooting and to uphold the contract. Most of the time it isn't this difficult. But then most of the time I don't have a broken leg. I decided that I had walked far enough and threw down the bow in exasperation, followed by the crutches. Today had already been a long day: Joel had caught something from daycare and had been throwing up all morning until he passed out. I guess this is the perfect time for him to get sick, seeing as I'm not going to school for the next couple of days. But I have to go to work. I can't afford to lose the money.

I want to smoke so bad.

Easing myself onto the ground without twisting my leg the wrong way, I plopped down with a sigh, adjusting the quiver into a comfortable position on my back. Quintenn doesn't usually come late, so there was no point in starting to practice until after.

Sure enough, no sooner than I had set myself down than from out of the shadows I see a thin, tall figure slip slowly closer. Black hair tinged with red catches some of the dying sunlight, and pale blue eyes glint against milky skin. His smile used to unnerve me to no end, so that I couldn't even look at it. That used to make him happy, like he took delight in seeing me in such discomfort. But now it's become a normal sight and my reactions are reduced to slight shivers.

"My, my," his rich voice said dryly as he smirked at my cast. "It seems we have taken a tumble?"

"Yeah, I did it to myself." I sighed and fidgeted with the stupid cast. My fingers itched to hug a cigarette. "It was either my leg or someone's face."

"Who is so _special_ that you would sacrifice easy movement, running, basketball, most things you excel at, for this person? Is there someone else whom I should protect as well?" He crossed through the trees and lowered himself down next to me, already clawing at my jacket to take it off. I guess he's had a rough week.

"Nobody really," I mumble. Why should he know? "Just a friend I didn't want to make hate me." I unzipped my coat and pulled out my left arm, exposing it to the harsh fall air. "Has there been anything suspicious this week?"

"No," he whispered, crawling over my body to reach my arm. I don't know if he does it on purpose to creep me out or if he doesn't realize that he so _penetrates_ my personal space, that I can smell him and feel the freezing air radiate from his body, his skin inches from my face. He stared at my arm with such intensity, reaching out slowly and cautiously to touch it with a single finger, then to caress it like it was the only source of blood left in the world.

Quintenn is a Strigoi. He's kind of like a vampire in that he doesn't age, came back to life, and feeds off of human blood. Three years ago he tried to attack me in the woods when I was practicing my shooting. I was going to kill him, but I felt bad for him. He was starving and just desperate for some food. And being a demigod who didn't live at one of the protected camps, my family was in danger. My blood also happened to be exceptionally tasty, I guess. I don't know his whole back story, but he did tell me his chances of becoming a Strigoi were greatly increased when he killed himself in 1768. Every year since, we've formed a contract: I allow him to feed off of me if he protects my family. Joel comes first, of course.

He took a knife from his belt and shielded my sight from the arm with his body. Once again, the territory of my personal space had been crossed. I lay down to put some space between my face and his shoulder. At least he smelled good.

A second later I felt the knife slice down my forearm followed by his tongue tracing the cut. His moan pierced my ears, an indication that he'd been pretty hungry. The cold had numbed my arm enough that it felt like pressure just pushing down on my arm. I had already gotten used to it by now. His body progressively relaxed onto mine as he lapped up my blood. The thick, metallic smell permeated the air, so that I was feeling a little nauseous.

He paused to look back at me, blood covering his satisfied smirk. "If you think about it, this is very… seductive? Vampiric-"

"Parasitic," I cut in bluntly, closing my eyes like that could erase the image of his bloody face. "I'm feeling kinda weak."

"Just…" He sucked at my arm desperately, moaning in desire and wont and pleasure. "Just a little… more…" I lay there in silence, letting him have his fill. I could feel the blood dripping down the curve of my arm onto the ground. I felt drained. I wanted to smoke. To reenergize.

He finally pulled away, a little reluctantly, and licked his lips, eyes glazing over and still glued to my forearm. I dragged myself up into a sitting position and took some gauze from my jacket pocket to wrap around my arm. The cut was already beginning to clot, but I didn't want some monster smelling it while I walked back.

"Allow me," Quintenn purred, taking the gauze. He unraveled some, ripped it with his teeth, and bent down to slowly lick the remaining blood with his freezing tongue, smirking up at me with those cold blue eyes. I rolled my eyes at him, and he just continued to clean up the blood and wrap my arm.

"I don't really feel like shooting today," I sighed out, ignoring the headache forming across my forehead. "I'm just gonna go home."

Quintenn helped me up and put me back on my crutches. He carried my bow as he walked beside me back out of the trees. I stared at the floor pretending to focus on stabilizing my crutches and he stared at me unblinkingly the whole way back. I tried not to shiver under his gaze because that would just be like giving in. He'd stare even harder and smirk even wider and gosh darnit I'm not gonna give him that satisfaction just for creeping me out.

At the edge of the woods, a few yards from the apartment building, he handed me back my bow. I ignored the way his cold hand lingered longer than it had to, and refrained from meeting his eyes. "So I'll be back next week," I said, adjusting my bow.

"I look forward to it," he whispered. And then he was gone, back in the shadows.


	7. Chapter 7

I slid open the glass door and slowly made my way onto the small deck, cold night air engulfing my throbbing head. A stuffy, congested Joel waddled out beside me with his hand gripping one of my crutches for support. We were both sick with whatever he had caught from his daycare. Headaches, runny noses, coughs, and congestion. The poor guy didn't talk all day, just lay in a sick haze in bed with me watching old Blues Clues reruns and The Wizard of Oz recording we saved on tape. Garret had come in from work about an hour earlier and brought some Tylenol for us both. It was now almost 9:30 and Joel decided he wanted a little fresh air. So we had wormed our ways out of either side of the bed, I wearily utilized my crutches to maneuver through the room that had never seemed so much like an obstacle course, and now we were situated on a plastic chair, his little form in my arms, resting his poor little congested head against my chest as I rubbed his back.

All day I had been in inexplicable torture heightened by the fact that my body was both too tired and stuffy to really do anything and my brain so agitated that I felt like a super hyper immobilized… mass of wasted space. So utterly helpless. Smoking was on my mind almost constantly. When it wasn't, I was thinking about what to do to distract myself from smoking. I was bedridden, couldn't smoke, and reading didn't quell the thirst for physical movement and the release of adrenaline.

It's horrible- even as I sat there holding Joel in my arms and feeling his warmth and his breath and his _physical-ness_, I was thinking (rather guiltily) about cigarettes. I had found an old pack with three remaining cigs in it, and it was burning a hole in my mind. Its presence was very prominent to me on the dresser, even from outside. I was planning on throwing them away, but it had to be out of the apartment, just in case.

I closed my eyes and rocked him gently back and forth to a tune I whisper-sang, probably something I had listened to earlier that day. He breathed open-mouthed over my shoulder in long, slow hums. We stayed like this for a few minutes. I shielded him from the cold wind with my jacket, until he stirred and I thought it best to go in. I struggled to adjust my crutches properly under my arms without dropping Joel. Somehow I managed to stand up (with much quiet grunting of frustration) and get back into the apartment to lay sick Joel back down in bed. He kept his eyes shut as he wriggled into the warmth of the covers and only opened them when he noticed I wasn't immediately beside him.

"I'm going for a short walk," I whispered, wiping a strand of hair from his face. "To stretch my leg out a bit. I'll be back soon, don't worry." I kissed his head and grabbed the near-empty cigarette box on my way out.

The stairs are the worst part. There's no elevator for my apartment building, only thin metal stairs on the outside of the building. I cautiously stepped down the descent of death, using only my right crutch and leaning against the wall with my left arm. It was alright until the very last case. My crutch gave out against the lack of friction between the rubber and the damp metal, and I slipped down the rest of the ten steps, knocking my cast around quite a bit. It was all I could do not to scream, but I did exhale a quiet cry of pain. It seared up through my leg into my thigh, causing my whole body to tense and shake, and my headache increased by a thousand times at least. I wanted to cry: my lungs ached for smoke, I'm incapacitated, I'm sick and feeling like crap… Today has _not_ been a fun day.

"Hey, are you ok?"

Why is it that the one person who I want to be calm around shows up during my most emotionally maxed-out moments? I slowed my breathing before gathering my crutches and attempting to pull myself up with the stair rail. "I'm fine," I answered, blinking back tears of frustration as I wrestled with gravity. I felt thin arms link into my free one and hoist me into a standing position, putting a crutch under my arm for me. "Thanks." I stared at my cast like I was pretending to find a more comfortable leaning point. Thank heavens it's dark. "Why are you here?" I asked. My nose is running again. Very noticeably, I realized, as I sniffed hard. Of course it isn't as a result of crying. Just being sick.

It was almost as if I could feel his muscles tense at the question. I finally looked up into the shadow of his face outlined by curly black hair. "…Just walking," he replied. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here." I wiped my eyes with the wrist of my jacket, not even bothering to attempt being discreet.

He didn't answer for a second. It was too dark to read his face. "But why are you outside? Trying to climb down a flight of stairs with a broken leg?"

What great timing. I pulled out the cigarette pack and handed it to him, feeling my heart throb desperately at its dislike of the situation. "I found an old pack and couldn't risk throwing it away in my apartment. I was going to do it somewhere else. But lucky you're here so I don't have to walk forever." I knew I was rambling a bit because I was nervous about passing up a chance to smoke. About giving up smoking. My lungs were not happy.

He took the pack from me and stuck it in his own pocket. I watched it go for a moment, and then had to turn away from him to wipe my eyes again. This is so pathetic, how low these damned sticks of paper and plant can make me feel. It's my biggest, most powerful enemy. Give me the seamonsters, give me a Cyclops army, heck, even give me Kronos. They don't have contracts on my soul like those I sign every time I light a cig.

"…I can walk you back up stairs."

I shook my head no. "I'm good thanks." I don't want him seeing me like this any more than he has to. "I'll see you later."

"I'll come over to check on you sometime," he said as I made my way to the stairs.

I sighed, a little relieved that I'd have some distraction from this endless torture. "Thanks. I look forward to it."

He didn't help me up, but he didn't leave at least until I had entered my floor. And I didn't slip once on the way up.

I set down the book- the second I had finished that day. It seemed my fingers couldn't turn the pages fast enough, my brain couldn't absorb the information quickly enough for my restless body. It was like smoking had deprived me of some of my physical strength, and I was getting it all back at once but couldn't use it. Throughout the day I'd feel tears rolling down my face, twice in the morning and a few more times in the afternoon. Sometimes they were a result of the spontaneous emotions because of smoking, and other times I had no idea why I was crying- also because of smoking. I was all alone in the apartment for the majority of the day. Joel had been at daycare, Garret had been at work. Now he's working in the living room, with the old box-TV spitting out what little reception it could get. Joel slept soundly beside me, all traces of a cold almost completely gone. Jake came by in the morning to give me a stack of library books. He talked about getting his eyes checked finally. Said the headaches have been getting worse. I was so hungry for something to do, someone to just be around, that I made him late for school.

My fingers grabbed my art book of their own accord, it seemed. I pulled a mechanical pencil from the top of the small bookshelf by the bed and gazed studiously at my brother's relaxed, carefree face. The pencil grazed the paper in long, soft, repeated strokes to form the curve of his head, the tip of his nose, the caves of his eyes. Soon the oversized page resembled very much a small square of my vision, and I reached under the bed for my acrylic paints. My drinking water became the cleaning water for my brushes instead. On a very used pallet, I mixed orange and brown and white and a little bit of water to create a pale skin colour, then the milky yellow for his hair.

A knock against the doorframe made me jump and whip my head around. My leg ached at the sudden seizing of the muscles. Garret leaned halfway into the room, looking inquisitively at me. "There's a kid at the door asking to see you," he said softly. The bags under his eyes and the sound of his voice made it evident he was exhausted. "You up for seeing a 'Nico'?"

I nodded, gripping my brush a little tighter. "Sure," I answered. I turned back to my painting and filled in the last bit of skin colour, the thumb curled in the hand. I wasn't actually sure about having Nico in my apartment. Something about it just made me uneasy. But he was here now, and he knew I was home, so there was nothing to do about it.

I didn't acknowledge when I felt his presence enter the room. "Hey."

"Hey," I replied. I was filling in the darker shadows of the face now, edging around the forehead beneath the hair. The bed sank as he sat on the edge behind me. I felt his eyes rake over my painting, and I immediately wanted to throw it away. It wasn't supposed to be seen.

"OK, one, you don't look so good. You need to eat," he whispered. His black hair came into view as he leaned closer for a better look. "And two, I thought you said you couldn't paint."

"I can't." I chose to ignore his first comment. I was rather surprised at my newfound talent. But I guess that's what happens when you're stuck in the same room for a week with nothing but paper and paint to keep you company. "I can draw OK. But the painting bit is new. I guess I learn fast."

He remained silent. I kept painting. After a few minutes I felt his forehead rest gently against my arm. For a moment my hand froze, brush suspended in the air. Then I continued as though this were the most natural thing in the world: to feel Nico's coldness through my jacket and the conflicting warmth in my gut. Maybe that was me ignoring it. I don't know.

"What is this?" he broke the silence. He reached for the book lying on the bed that I had put down minutes before. "'The Awakening'. Kate Chopin. It looks old. I didn't think anyone read old stuff anymore."

"You can borrow it, if you want." I filled in around the eyes with a watered-down purple as I spoke. "It isn't very long. A little feminist, or at least it was for back then. 'Way ahead of its time.'" I scoffed slightly at the statement taken from a review given by a feminist website. In the back of my head was the thought that Nico might have my cigarettes on him. I kept it back there with all my might.

"I think I will. What's it about?"

"You tell me."

He watched me for a while longer, looking occasionally between my painting and the sleeping model. I wondered what he was thinking about. "Have you painted anything else?" His voice was soft, like he didn't want to interrupt the conversation silence was having with itself.

"I've done about five other real ones." I reached back down to grab a sketchbook leaning against the bookshelf and handed it to him. "But the drawings are better."

He flipped through it, taking what seemed like forever to examine each one. Dragons, serpents, nymphs, mountains, oceans, depictions of dreams… Anything and everything I thought about was there. My favourite thing to draw was the Leviathan from the tales in the Bible. The guardian of the sea.

Then there were the darker drawings, mostly of dreams I'd been having lately. Lots of black and shadow was involved. In some there was a face, but it had passed so quickly and was so hidden by darkness that I wasn't sure what it looked like. I knew at least that it was a woman, whose hair became the shadow that surrounded her completely. But that was all I could make out. And that's all I could draw. I explained this to Nico when he reached those images. "I thought the dreams had meant something," I said, "because demigod dreams tend to warn of oncoming doom and whatnot. But it didn't make much sense, and I'm not seeing any warning in them."

He flipped to the next page after a few moments to a portrait of Garret I did when he wasn't looking. His face was stoic, weary, disheartened, tired. Aching. I don't know why I drew it. I hated to look at it. But Nico stared a long time. I decided I didn't want to paint anymore and shut my book, setting it back down on the floor. The paints were put back in their original spot. I shifted my leg and watched his unmoving face as he examined the drawing.

He quickly shut the book and looked up at me. "I'll borrow the book. Why don't you go to Camp Half-Blood, like every other demigod? Or Camp Jupiter?"

I was a little surprised at how abruptly he changed the subject. "Because I have Joel to take care of," I murmured, looking over at the sleeping boy. "Garret doesn't make a lot of money. Not enough to support both of them. And I can't take him with me because I can't separate them."

"How did you find out about them? About being a demigod and gods and stuff?"

"I had a protector." A tall, middle-aged man with short brown hair and a well-trimmed beard came to mind. "A satyr who pretended to be a homeless guy that hung around my apartment for a while. He told me about the camps. But my mother told me very early on who my father was. She liked to tell me, and then point out all the ways I looked like him. And then she would cry a lot." Most of my memories of my mother were of her unhappy. Often she would wake me up in the middle of the night, tears staining her cheeks, and ask me to sleep with her in her large bed. And she would hold me and cry there in the dark and tell me how sorry she was and she wanted me to be happier than she had been. After the first few months of this, I rarely ever slept. I'd just sit on my bed and read, waiting for her. "But…" I lost my roll. I glanced up at Nico and shrugged. "I guess… That's it, you know?"

His fingers picked at his jacket thoughtfully. "Does your stepfather know?"

I nodded, looking through the dingy lights of the other room to locate him. He sat hunched over the desk, head in his hands. "I told him. He was a little hard to convince at first, but he got it after I introduced him to my protector." I chuckled when I remembered his shocked face as he stared at the satyr hooves. He had to touch them before he believed it was all real. "We don't talk about it much."

"It seems that a lot fewer monsters attack you than would be expected," he said finally. "How does that work?"

I pointed across the room to the bow and arrows in the corner, leaning by the window. "The arrows are all tipped with celestial bronze," I explained, "and the bow has some at each end, for close range fights. They act like knives. The quiver is 'magically enhanced', so that it never runs out of arrows. A little gift from my dad I found one morning." I didn't mention Quintenn at all. I don't know what the son of Hades would say about me employing an undead Strigoi as a protector.

Maybe he sensed I was hiding something. He stared at me a long time, searching through my eyes for something. What? I thought I'd hidden it pretty well. But he didn't question me. Instead he slid off the bed, Chopin in hand, and made slowly for the living room. "I'm gonna get going," he said, looking at me again with hard, dark eyes that sent now well-expected heat to my stomach. "You should come to hang out at the camp this weekend. Or when your leg heals. Just to see what it's like. They have a path for running, through the forest and by a river. You'd like it."

I nodded in reply. "I'll take you up on that offer when my leg heals."

He sent me the most genuine smile I've ever seen, and the biggest I've seen on his face. Then he exited the room quietly, and I was left alone to feel stupid wondering why I had talked so much.


	8. Chapter 8

The smile on my face caught me by surprise. But how can anyone help it when Joel is having so much fun? He gripped my hair with chubby little hands and laughed his head off like nothing was better than to sit high on my shoulders and look over the crowd of armed demigods we walked through. Swords sharpened to deadly points, spears as thick as my arm, plumed helmets and flying arrows- none of it seemed to bother him.

I made sure to walk carefully with my crutches, so as not to drop the little guy. Nico was currently giving us a tour of Camp Half-Blood. The demigods we passed turned to look for the sound of the laughter, and ended up smiling themselves. Joel was more at home than I was; things were a little too hectic for me. But Nico kept looking at me when he thought I didn't notice, checking to see if I liked it with nervous dark eyes. So I took special interest in the forest trail he pointed out- "Perfect for running," he made sure to mention with enthusiasm- the eating hall, the sword practice ring, the moving-target practice… I will say, I did like the look of that. The arrows strapped over my shoulder were itching to fly.

Then he took us to the Apollo cabin, which is apparently where I would stay if I _did_ stay. But that's where I felt the most uncomfortable.

I ducked as low as I could with my crutches to make sure Joel didn't hit the doorframe. When I straightened, I took in the large, open space and bunkbeds lining the walls, each with its own laurel wreath hanging from a nail in the wood. The smell of the laurel was permeating and calming. In the middle of the room was a sort of living area, with well-used couches, a comfy looking reclining chair, and some extra folding chairs centered around an old TV sat on a woven rug depicting Apollo conquering some anonymous soldier. In the recliner lay a kid about my age, wearing some khaki shorts and an orange t-shirt. His shaggy yellow hair covered half-asleep face as he peered at us through the bangs.

"You must be the new guy," he said cheerfully, standing up to shake my hand. I did so as best I could with the crutches, immediately feeling warmer and more welcome. He smiled widely as he reached up to shake Joel's little hand gently. "I'm Will Solace, head councilor of the Apollo Cabin. Nico talks about you all the time. Glad you could come see the place! It's a bit of a mess right now-" he gestured behind him to a pile of clothes at least four feet high that I hadn't noticed before- "but we haven't done the laundry yet." He chuckled and scratched the back of his head embarrassedly. "But hey, it happens sometimes."

"I know the feeling," I replied, thinking of my own room… "You couldn't find my floor if you dug with a shovel."

He laughed like he meant it, which is something I haven't seen often. Everyone here is so relaxed, so easy-going. I was a little jealous of what I've been missing out on. "Well, you let me know if you need anything," he said when he stopped laughing. "I'll leave you to look around. See you at the dining hall?"

"Sure." Joel waved bye as he walked out, and Nico followed, saying he would give me some time to examine the room.

I sat myself down on the lumpy couch, struggling with the crutches and a teetering Joel. I should've waited to come until my leg was healed. It would only be a day or two more anyways. Once on the couch, Joel tumbled off my head and somersaulted onto the cushions, laughing like no tomorrow. I chuckled with him, bringing my good leg up to rest on the couch. "How you liking the place, little man?" I asked, smoothing his hair back into shape out of habit.

"It's much fun!" he giggled, reaching up to grab my hand.

I absently mumbled a correction, "'A lot'", and he repeated it over and over after me. I sighed heavily, leaning my head against his forehead to look him in the eyes. He stared back wide-eyed, waiting for me to talk like he knew I would. "Do you like where we are right now?" I whispered.

He blinked, not looking around. "Yes." Only staring at me.

"Would you like to live here?"

"Yes." He smiled happily, immediately relaxing me.

"But Daddy couldn't live here with us."

He frowned. "Why?"

I sighed again, closing my eyes. "We could only live here because I have something special. You could live with me because you're my little brother. But Daddy couldn't because he doesn't have something special like I do."

I thought back to the conversation I'd had last night with Garret, about coming to the camp. "We're just visiting for the weekend," I had said, scratching at my neck guiltily. We didn't speak about the camp because we knew I couldn't leave with Joel. He needed a father at least. "Nico is taking me. It's just to meet people."

He looked so tired and frail, and it made me feel even worse when he just consented without any objections. "Yeah, sure," he said as enthusiastically as he could. "You should at least get to know some people like you. You know, so you don't feel… left out of everything." And then, to top it off with a cherry of self loathing, he went on to apologize to me for how he wasn't able to make me feel like a real part of the family and that he hoped I wasn't upset with him for anything he did, or in this case, couldn't do. I wished I could shadow travel like Nico.

Joel's touch on my nose brought me back to the present. I opened my eyes and looked at his little fingernails thoughtfully. "I think we're gonna wait on moving in for a while, OK? Let's just stick with spending the night."

He smiled at me, and I felt so much better. "You're gonna make a _great_ therapist one day," I said as I hefted him onto my shoulders again, giving his stomach a squeeze. He giggled and threaded his fingers into their positions in my hair as I put my crutches into place and slowly stood.

"So," Nico began nervously as I entered back into the sunlight. He shoved his hands into his jacket and stared at me expectantly. "How do you like it?"

"It's nice," I answered, nudging Joel with my head. "Joel likes it even more than I do." It felt nice to be out of the cabin. I almost dreaded sleeping there tonight. "My favourite parts so far are the running trail and the basketball courts. They're full size, too. Automatic win for me."

He smiled like he was proud that he'd shown them to me, like he made them himself. "Cool! So you think you're gonna… visit more often?"

I shrugged, adjusting Joel's weight on my shoulders. "Maybe. I like the place." I wasn't sure that was entirely true.

We walked to the dining hall in the dimming orange light of the dying sun. Apollo making his last rounds. Nico talked to fill the silence, I think. On our way up I met a Percy and an Annabeth, apparently very well-known around the camp. Nico had talked about them on the way here. I did the little awkward around-the-crutch shake thing. Percy seemed pretty chill, and Annabeth- I liked her. She was the most normal person I'd met here yet, besides Nico. They walked with us, Joel being the center of attention all the way there. I was so glad I had him there to make friends for me.

People are friendly here. Over-friendly. But it feels nice, to an extent. With Joel spreading his contagious laugh and Will and Percy and Annabeth introducing me to absolutely everyone there and even throwing our food into a communal fire pit to offer to parents that some of us haven't even ever met, and Nico's eyes on me- I felt at home. Genuinely happy.

I noticed with surprise that I didn't even want to smoke.


	9. Chapter 9

The first friend I made all by myself was Milo.

Joel was fast asleep beside me in the guest bunk, open-mouthed and softly snoring. I hadn't slept at all, just lay there staring at the bottom of the next bunk. My eyes refused to stay shut, just constantly grazed the room for minuscule, irrelevant details. Chips in the windowpanes. Patchwork on the blankets. Openings in the wood of the walls. After staying up late talking with Percy, I felt horrible for thinking _my_ life was hectic. He told me about his many encounters with death until he finally _did_ die, in a sense, when he fell into Tartarus.

"I would still be stuck down there," he whispered, his eyes flicking over the bonfire. I followed his gaze to Annabeth, who was laughing at a joke someone had just made. "I'd have been done for if she weren't there to save my butt. And yet... if I could go back and fix things, she wouldn't have fallen with me. She wouldn't have had to experience everything she did. She's... changed. Just a little. Every once in a while, I'll notice it. And it kills me that she changed because of me."

Sitting on the log in the warmth of the fire with Percy as he stared with the most despondent expression I've ever seen at someone he was supposed to be complete with, a mini revelation came upon me. One, I realized I wanted someone to care about me that much. It was emotionally exhausting to think about so many people all the time, and to love them so much in the case of Joel. This is a super unloving way of thinking, ironically. Two, I thought about how safe it would be to not care about anyone: you'd never get hurt failing to protect someone or to keep them safe. Also an extremely selfish thought. I felt guilty when I looked at Joel being entertained by wood nymphs, and resolved never ever to let something like that slip into my mind again.

I slipped out of the bed and crept out of the room with my jacket. Thanks to some ambrosia the night before, my leg had been healed. They say it's supposed to taste like your favourite food. I tasted nothing. But Nico had asked, looking at me curiously as I twisted it over in my mouth slowly, so I chose a favourite anyways. "Twizzlers," I answered, pretending the sweetness was filling my mouth. I had never been a great actor. "Swedish fish. Mm."

The moonlight barely illuminated the way to the running trail. I stretched my sore leg out a few times before taking off into the woods, breathing in the refreshingly painful night air. It felt _amazing_ to sprint again. A crazy, delirious smile spread across my face. The lake is _incredible_ at night, a wavy reflection of the spotted sky. Each round around the camp, I stopped on the beach to be amazed twice, three times, until my lungs and legs were on fire and it was nearly five.

I used the public showers outside the cabin to keep from waking anyone up. All my muscles relaxed in the welcoming heat and the solitude of my stall, but the adrenaline remained like a drug in my veins.

Alas, my relaxation was led to an abrupt end when the water became very suddenly cold. Man, they don't have a huge hot water supply, I thought as I twisted the shower off. I hope no one gets mad at me for using it all. How was I supposed to know? I wrapped a towel around me and stepped past the shower curtain, rubbing myself dry. You'd think they'd have a better water-heating system with so many people-

"Wow, your reaction isn't even satisfying."

By the sinks was a relatively tall, blonde-haired male holding a remote of some sort. He wore a goofy smile and his pale brown eyes were filled with mischief. Like no matter what promises he made, you should always check your seat before you sat down, or your pockets before you left. Usually I make a very large, bold-print, highlighted mental note to stay as far away from such people as is physically and entirely possible. But this guy, right off the bat, felt different. Like everything about him was drawing me in. Like there was no better person in the world for me to be spending time with but him.

"I guess I'm sorry I made your shower cold, since you didn't even freak out," he said as he chuckled somewhat guiltily, shoving the remote into his jacket pocket. "Not a great first impression. I'm Milo. Milo Greene. Hermes' Kid."

Then it made a little sense: Apollo and Hermes are BFF's. They go way back, and sometimes the kids of the two gods are, like... matched, personality-wise. Almost like they're made specifically to compliment each other. And then I'm hoping really hard that this is the explanation of this feeling, because otherwise it's just super awkward.

By the time we exit the showers, I have involuntarily discovered quite a lot about Milo Greene: one, he loves to talk. Two, he can steal anything and everything without getting caught. This he proves by relieving me of my jacket zipper and therefore freaking me out just a little. Three, Milo has a loving mother and stepfather that he visits regularly and on holidays, but he has lived at the camp since he was eight. Four, he sucks at sword-fighting, but can do close range dagger attacks and, quote, "insane Bruce-Lee ninja moves." Five, his mother is Swedish, and I finally place his accent.

The sun is waking up and we're in a pavilion by the lake, and I'm telling him all about Joel (somehow the conversation had strayed from his rabid pet albino rabbits at his mother's house). His aura is so contagious, so I'm talking more than I mean to and smiling like a madman and feeling the most comfortable yet at this camp. And just as I feel a presence behind me and identify it as Nico, I register the shocked look on Milo's face. I guess he snuck up on us. I turned and smiled warmly at him, which I realize I've never done before. He has a frown on his cold, blank face. But in the good mood I'm in, I don't care.

"Hey," I said cheerfully like I was a Walmart assistant paid to do so.

He looked a little surprised, and most of his frown was replaced with a smirk instead. "Hey," he answered, looking me up and down. "You didn't tell me where you'd be going. I was a little freaked out. Thought maybe you got speared up or lost or something."

I rolled my eyes playfully, the happiness just pouring out of me. "I'm not that stupid," I chuckled. "It was a spontaneous run. I didn't know where I was going either."

"Since when are you guys chained at the wrist?" Milo chipped in, smiling good-naturedly.

Nico didn't laugh.

"...Well, I have to go get Joel." The tension was driving me insane. I don't do well in 2+ groups to begin with. So I stood from my seat and hurriedly walked in the direction of the gleaming Apollo cabin, muttering something about seeing them at breakfast.

As I made my way backup the hill, I felt Nico following me. The sounds of sword-fighting could be heard from the practice ring. I spotted centaurs galloping in a herd around the lake. All of it is so surreal. I'm in some sort of fairy tail. It's all going to end tomorrow. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was," I said, without turning around. "I just couldn't sleep this morning and went for a run."

He sighed. "I was overreacting. Just worried."

The conversation ended there, but I felt the well-known ease slip back into the atmosphere. The whole day seemed brighter and my spirits raised, bouncing my step a little bit.

"You know that song 'Beautiful Day' by U2?" The lightheartedness in my own voice surprised me.

"Yeah?" I could hear the smile on Nico's face.

I grinned ecstatically, skipping one or two steps. "That's today."

Hours later, a little past lunch, Joel and I are saying goodbyes. He runs to his new nymph friends who fawn over him and cry dainty little tears and hug him so tightly that I'm tempted to take him from their death-grips before they kill the poor guy. Chiron, a centaur at the camp, came earlier only to welcome me, and I never got a chance to meet the camp director, Dionysus. Although, Annabeth informs me under her breath, I wouldn't have wanted to meet him anyways.

"He's always cranky because he can't drink wine," she whispered to me with a smirk. I grimaced at the thought of how horrible that must feel. Almost as bad as not being able to smoke.

I had beat Will at shooting, which was apparently a big deal. He looked so shocked I almost wanted to laugh. "How did you do that?" he asked with incredulity lacing his voice. We stood on one side of the large field facing the targets at the far end of the green expanse. My arrows had reached their marks first, dug deeper into the targets. I was a little surprised as well: I never practiced with someone else before. I thought I'd be _way_ outranked because I didn't have all the cool equipment or as much time to do it. But it was almost too easy. "I seriously can't believe..." He shook his head in disbelief as he examined my arrows stuck in their targets at the other end of the field. "How did you do it?"

I smirked at him, turning to face away from the bright sun. "Not telling. But I thought, as son of Apollo and therefore a natural master at archery, you would know. Or at least have a guess."

Apparently he didn't.

I said something vague about coming to visit again, and Annabeth said she would teach me to use a sword better like I had asked, and Milo told me to be prepared for a better, more intense prank next time, and Will gave me the whole talk about how the cabin was always open for more members and how I'd always have a spot whether or not I stayed. Which, you know, is nice and all. But not realistic.

Percy walked with me and Nico halfway back to the entrance at the center of the woods, carrying my crutches for me as I carried Joel on my shoulders. "It's really awesome talking to someone so sane every once in a while," he said as we waded our way through the ocean of dead leaves. "You don't know how calming it was for me."

Look out Joel, I thought. I'm an up-and-coming therapist myself.

A few minutes later it was just me and Nico making the trek back to the road. He was silent, which meant he was either unsure of what to say or he had nothing to say, or he wanted to say something but didn't know how to put it. Either way he decided to speak. "Tell me what you really thought," he muttered, looking up at me for a second before staring back into the leaves.

"...There were parts I enjoyed," I said cautiously. "Like the shooting range. And the showers, although you guys should fix the plumbing." I smirked to myself. "And the trail. And the lake, my God. And night here is crazy amazing. Like cities and electricity and roads and internet and cars and powerplants don't exist, and it's..." I couldn't find the right word. So I left it there.

"And..." he coaxed me on. I felt his shoulder brush my arm with an unexpected intensity. "...parts you didn't enjoy?"

I sighed. "More pros than cons. I'll come see you guys again sometime. Joel would force me even if I didn't want to."

Joel chimed in about how he would pull me all the way here if he had to, and Nico smiled at that, like he believed it. But I don't think I'd have to be pulled. I ignored the understanding that, if Nico were here, I'd come voluntarily.


	10. Chapter 10

Mandy inquired about my sleep as we plodded through the near-empty school. "You seem pretty tired," she said, bumping my shoulder lightly. We had used the music room to "make melodic noise", as she likes to say. She sings. I play the piano for her. It sounds amazing. I keep telling her she ought to _do_ something with that voice, like start a band or audition for X Factor or something wild like that. And she says she isn't that kind of girl.

"I just had some nightmares," I answered, nudging her shoulder back. "Nothing serious." Although they had terrified me then, in the middle of the night. It was almost like the last few times, but now the shadow-woman is dancing with a shadow-man. They're singing ominous and silent songs as they wisp around like wind in the dark. I felt like I was drowning in a sort of oblivion, both physically and emotionally. So many feelings at once…

She told me all about how she and Robert were getting together. Robert's a good guy, so I the only thing I question is what happened to Charlotte. "She dumped him because she's going on this overseas program this summer." She could barely contain the excitement in her voice. "She doesn't want to do the long-distance relationship thing. So Robert was free, and we went to 'The Thirstings' concert downtown, and he had a fake I.D. to get us in, and we were dancing like crazy and he kissed me, and now we're dating. He's super sweet. And I'm glad you know him, because if you're cool with him then I know he's ok." I just nod like I approve. Truth is, I don't know Robert _that_ well. He just plays on the team sometimes.

Jake walks out of the science classroom, new glasses gripping the bridge of his nose. "I don't think these are helping any," he mutters under his breath, rubbing his forehead. "I've had them for like, a week now, and my head is still killing me. You, however, seem to be making magical recoveries." He gestures to my leg before his fingers return to massage his head again, brow furrowed.

And we split at the entrance, Jake and Mandy walking one way together and me crossing the street to head for the daycare. I didn't have to turn to see Nico slide into step beside me.

"I don't understand the book," he says into the silence. Not even the wind picks up today. Like the whole world is frozen. He sniffles and walks closer to me until I feel his arm brush mine with each step we take. "She's getting tired of being married? She doesn't know what to do with her life? She realizes she isn't really living or something? What's her problem? She starts to hate her kids, she starts to hate her husband… You just _know_ she's gonna fall for that Robert dude, even though she's like eight years older than he is-"

"I think you're supposed to think that she's dissatisfied with the life she's living," I reply, trying to focus on his words and not on his touch. I stare at the ground, our two pairs of shoes walking slowly side-by-side, a little proud that I had suggested a book he took interest in. "She's getting restless. She feels penned in."

"But she's got a ton of stuff to do," he retorted somewhat irritably. "She has a fricking summer home right on the beach, she's a stay at home mom with maids and babysitters… I don't really get what her problem is."

This time he comes in the daycare with me. It seems a little dull inside for some reason: the lights don't seem as bright. The wall colour- a light blue- looks washed. Samantha waves at me and smiles at Nico while I sign. He puts on the blank face, and I can't help but chuckle at him. Like Samantha's going to bite because she can read his face or something. He glares at me a little. I can feel his eyes on the back of my head as we traverse the halls and arrive at the playroom. Joel is already in his coat, and runs to me with a huge smile on his little round face, arms outstretched. I lift him up high in the air and twirl him around a few times before nuzzling his hair fondly. He takes his place on my shoulders and waves goodbye to Samantha as we leave. "Can Nico come home with us, Son?" he asks on our way back.

"He asks because Garret is away on a business trip," I tell Nico as he once again closes the distance between us. "Isn't he, little guy?"

"I'll come over tonight," he answers after a few moments, "if you'll come back to the camp for the day after."

I can feel his eyes on me as he watches my expression. Joel exclaims that he really likes what Nico just said. And that's all I need to say yes.

I've ordered takeaway, because it's the cheapest thing open at night, and they've been giving us discounts for the past 3 years because we're regulars, apparently. And they're just super nice people. Joel entertains Nico (and therefore entertains himself as well) by singing and showing him his toy collection, which consists of a Lego man I made him forever ago, a stuffed rabbit he named Dorothy, and a stuffed mini-Rottweiler he named Toto. Once again, I was glad that Joel was there to be my speaker. I could just imagine the situation if he weren't there: awkward and silent and unnatural. Nico politely slid out of his shoes and left them by the door- although, there's no point because the carpet could use a vacuuming anyways. I turned the TV on and handed him the remote, but he left it on the kid's show it was on. I sat on the floor and watched them interact, like two new kids in a class. Nico was actually full-on smiling at Joel as he reenacted The Wizard of Oz using his few available actors. I sat and watched and felt blissfully at peace to see the two most important people to me being happy.

About twenty minutes later, Joel sat with his plate of Chinese food on the couch, using unskilled fingers to struggle stubbornly with chopsticks as he watched The Wizard of Oz. Nico and I were seated on the floor in front of the couch, mildly engrossed in the happenings of the show. But both Joel and I could probably recite the whole thing from memory. I was very aware of his knee inches from mine. Of how he would glance sideways at me every few minutes. And I would wonder what in the world it could mean. What it could all mean. This whole subconscious thing, the touching, the nervousness, the tension. Are all these things one-sided? Is it just me? I found it very unlikely that any of this was real. And because of this, I felt stupid thinking for even a second that it could be possible.

I was so deep in thought I almost missed his question. "I know you won't tell Will," he began in a low voice as he fiddled with his chopsticks. "But can you tell me how you beat him? In archery?"

"It's not all that crazy," I whispered under the movie, picking up a piece of fried tofu. "In fact, I thought it would be obvious. The archery you see in movies- you always see the arrow on the left side of the bow. First of all, this takes twice as long to get into place if you're right handed. If you're left handed, then this is perfect. But it's much easier to quickly get the arrow in place if you use the right side instead. It will be faster and have more force, because distance is speed by time, right? The faster you do it, the more likely you are to increase the force for a certain distance. It's also more precise than doing it the Hollywood way."

I stuffed the tofu in my face before I could elaborate and go into a talking spree. He looked a little surprised, and then a little confused like he was putting it together. Dorothy and the scarecrow ducked apples, and Joel's laughter filled the room. "How the heck did you figure this out?" he asked after a moment, interrupting the lion's song about courage.

"When I first got the bow, I just looked up how to use one. It's not the new kind with the fancy equipment attached. It's the old-fashioned string on a stick kind, you know? So I looked up pictures, read about ancient bowmanship or whatever. Not that difficult."

I wanted to pretend I didn't hear it, simply because it was too impossible that it could ever be said in relation to me. But I _did_ hear it. "You're incredible."


	11. Chapter 11

"You just gotta get the timing right!"

I stumbled back once again into the defensive position, holding out my sword to prevent further attacks. I had been caught off my guard yet again, and had another scratch across my face to prove it. Annabeth was attempting to teach me some sword fighting in the practice arena. We had come to the camp earlier this morning after breakfast. Joel was being fawned over by nymphs, and I trusted them enough to keep him safe, I guess… The harsh sun beat down on my skin relentlessly and kinda made me tired, like it weighed me down. But it was hard to focus anyway. Scenes from last night kept popping into my head, distracting me…

Nico had slept in the double bed with us. I couldn't let him take the couch, which is what I should've done. I don't know why I agreed to sleep in the bed with them. Joel did little to separate us with his tiny warm body. Hands brushed, then eyes averted themselves, freezing toes grazed legs, knees bumped knees. Even with my melatonin, I didn't fall asleep. I faced Nico so that I could hold Joel, and eventually his heart rate slowed, his chest rising in falling in rhythm. His back was to me, so I couldn't see his face. But even so, I felt his vulnerability under paper-thin covers.

A whack to the head from Annabeth's sword pulled me from my memories. She laughed at me as I tried to push it out of the way with my own too late. "Maybe you could use a break, huh?" Her eyes sparkled in the light and her hair caught the wind. She looked always ready to click into a fighting stance, even as she relaxed a little and pulled me to the side, away from sharp objects whizzing through the air. "Are you ok?" she asked, the playful air replaced by concern. "You keep dazing out. It's obvious you aren't focused. We should save this for another time."

"Yeah, you really suck," Milo called to me as we walked closer to the side of the arena. He leaned leisurely against the wooden fence, smirking at me cheerfully. "Even _I'm_ better at sword fighting than you are."

I sighed and set the stupid sword down carelessly on the ground. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Annabeth," I muttered, frustration seeping through my words. "I'm just a little mentally preoccupied today, it seems. And you weren't very helpful, Milo, yelling out sarcasm-riddled jokes at the expense of my-"

"-perfect stance, elegant poise, flawless victory." He laughed again, lightly punching me on the shoulder as we left through the large, open gate. I couldn't help but smile with him and Annabeth. "They'll sing songs about your battle scars," he said as he flicked gently on one of the scratched on my cheek. I pulled away from the sting and playfully ruffled his hair to push his head away.

"AH!" The breath flew from my lungs when he head-butted me in the stomach, toppling us onto the ground. All of a sudden it was like I was unshackled, from everything earthly that could burden me. I was totally and completely at peace- with myself, with my feelings, with friends, with life. I was exuberant. Roughhousing with Milo was like a natural high that caused time to stop and that moment to last forever. We could have been acting a scene on Elysium, in a constant state of wrestling, always laughing and never noticing that we were stuck in a video loop.

"Alright, break it up you two!" Annabeth's voice once again pulled me back to my senses. But the feeling didn't go away, like it usually did, like I expected it to. She fit perfectly into the moment. I realized that I was in a position of defeat, lying on my back with Milo's arm around my neck. "We should get those scars fixed up before you guys make them worse."

"I told you I'm amazing at close-range fights," Milo chuckled as he pulled me up by one arm. His eyes glinted mischievously and his heavy breathing fell into rhythm with mine. The adrenaline was quickly leaving my body. I sent one last desperate hit his way before giving up. I grabbed my bow and quiver from their position against the fence as we walked out, slinging them both over my shoulder.

"You look pretty beat up there." I glanced up to see Will, blonde hair blowing in the breeze, eyes squinted in the light. "Has Annabeth been 'helping' you practice?"

"Hey," she laughed, pulling her hair back from her face. "I really was trying. He just wasn't paying attention."

"I should probably take some ambrosia to heal them faster," I said, touching the one by my collarbone. "Joel will freak out a little if he sees them."

"You know that kids of Apollo can heal by chanting Greek hymns to him, right?" Will asked. Actually, Will, living in the not-Camp-Halfblood world, I wouldn't know that. "Here." He came close and touched my cheek, which stung at the warmth. Then he's humming and whispering something I can't understand, and the stinging is gone. I touch it myself, and there's not even a pucker on the skin to suggest that I was cut. "All better," Will smiled, placing his hands triumphantly on his hips.

"Thanks, man. You'll have to teach me how to do that. That could come in very handy."

I spotted Nico hiding in the shadows of the forest, his piercing stare attracting my attention. I said something absent-mindedly about meeting them later, and walked his way. Past some tents with moaning patients inside, through the tall, spindly trees, until his small form was finally before me. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets again. "Hey," I said, sitting in front of him in the pile of soft and decaying leaves. He settled down beside me, picking at his jacket sleeves unresponsively. The high feeling still lingered. Things felt magical. Anything seemed possible. It muddled my reasoning. Or maybe it de-layered the responsibility and worry from my real personality, or whatever. Like therapists try to tell you about. But whatever the reason, I found myself submitting to the urge to lean my head against his shoulder. It just felt nice. I had no reason behind it. It just seemed to fit the shade, the spotted patches of light, the sound of swords clanging, the chatter of the busy life that is at home here. So I did it.

Immediately after I did, I felt stupid. Embarrassed. So I removed my head and fiddled with the hem of my shirt nervously. Nico had stopped moving, I noticed. It was selfish and stupid of me to give in to something just because it "felt right". Selfish and stupid and inconsiderate. I didn't look at him as I quickly pushed myself up from his side and left, muttering about finding Joel.

I had ruined the moment.

I could tell that Joel was going to get fussy. He woke up in the middle of the night and just began whining quietly, rubbing his eyes and squirming under the sheets in the dark of the cabin. I pulled him into my arms and pushed slowly off the bed. We were still wrapped in a blanket while we walked out the door into the night air, which was surprisingly not as cold as I had expected. Joel immediately quieted. His breath huffed against my ear in small, warm bursts and he hugged my neck tight. I nuzzled him gently as we made our way through the cabins to the docks by the forest. Percy said he hung out here a lot to think calmly.

Joel stirred at the soft _thunk_ of my feet against the damp wood, the smell of the water, the chill in the air. I carefully sat down at the very end, dangling my sock-covered feet above the water. Joel snuggled under the blanket, his little eyes gleaming in the pale moonlight. I rubbed circles on his back and hummed a Death Cab song. Stay Young, Go Dancing. We sat like this for a while, me humming and Joel listening and sounds mingling with smells mingling with emotions.

"It's pretty," Joel sighed out into a silent moment.

"Mmhmm," I agreed, resting my head on his.

"Your voice is pretty too."

"Thank you." Joel never really spoke about things like that. Not about _any_ music I made, vocal or instrumental. It surprised me. He snuggled into me some more and I lay back onto the dock, my feet still hanging over the edge. And I marveled at the stars. How many there were, and how far away they were, and how that makes that time for those super far-away stars so distant from now, here on earth.

Suddenly I'm dreaming. I hadn't expected to fall asleep. But now I'm drowning in darkness, like I'm miles below the earth without a light and no sound. I'm not even sure if I'm awake or just aware that I'm sleeping and seeing the insides of my eyelids. But I didn't feel Joel with me anymore.

"Hero." Whispers. Echoes. Reverberation. I felt my chest rising and falling quickly, my heart beating in panicked attacks on my rib cage. But I didn't hear anything except those deep, toneless, soft echoes. That alone scared me. I was isolated from everything, even my own senses.

"Drown in the Night," a voice right by my ear whispered.

"Wake up!"

The lights are turned on. The spell is broken. I lay on my side on the dock, curled in the fetal position around Joel's tiny body. The dim moonlight seemed so bright, and I reveled in my erratic heartbeat pounding through my ears. The waves sounded like screams as they scraped against the sand. I was lost in brown eyes so close to me that I saw nothing else. Everything was magnified after the disappearance into nothingness.

"...Hi," I whispered, rubbing my watering eyes. I checked that Joel was still asleep, then struggled against his weight into a sitting position. Nico pulled away from me and sat down beside me. "Didn't think that I'd fall asleep."

"Why the heck are you sleeping on the docks?" he asked. His voices was rough against the silence.

"Joel was getting a bit fussy." I nosed the little guy's head and wrapped the blanket tighter around us. "He needed some time outside."

"...I can feel darkness. All kinds." I stared into the water, focusing intently on each wave. I noticed that my feet were only inches from the icy cold lake, whereas Nico's shoe-clad feet were about three inches higher than mine, still and unmoving. "I felt something from you. It was so strong it was like a magnet. You were all freaked out while you dreamed, too."

I didn't respond.

"...Was it important? Your dream?"

"No." I really didn't think it was. The dream kept coming back, whenever I slept, but I never put a solid meaning to it.

Nico stayed silent. Even without looking at him, I knew he didn't believe me. I sighed into Joel's fuzzy hair and closed my eyes, failing to convince myself that I didn't care if Nico was upset.

"I didn't like the book ending."

I finally turned to glance at him. "Why not?" The nervousness faded slowly away.

He leaned back on his arms, staring out across the lake with that "I don't care" mask on. But I knew it was only a mask. "Well... she kills herself just because she didn't get what she wants, which is to ditch her husband, ditch the responsibility of her kids but still experience the good parts of having them, ditch her life and reputation and _everything_ for a young dude who will probably find someone else to run away with after the thrill of eloping with a married woman is over. She was just bored with her life. That's a stupid reason to die."

I think that's the most I've heard Nico say at one time. At least he seems really into the book. "Yeah, that's pretty much-"

Nico cuts me off, his angry/frustrated rant continuing. "I mean, I understand that... finding the right person is hard. Maybe she made a mistake marrying the dude she did. Maybe Robert really was who she loved and should have ended up with. But they- her husband and herself- they already made commitments to each other. To their children. There are some things you just can't undo, things you can never take back. Just because you're a little uncomfortable doesn't mean you can say 'To Hell with this' and dump your responsibilities on people who trusted you- who you were eternally _bound_ to."

He's really feeling strongly about this. "Well, I agree with you completely," I carefully began. "But this is something I've thought over a lot. Take a look at our parents. Take a look at all the gods. If eternal beings have made this same mistake over and over and over, where is there any proof that it _is_ a mistake at all?"

He didn't have time to answer. We both turned our heads to face the sound of a _creak_ in the wooden boards. A short-ish, redheaded girl was moving slowly towards us in small, creeping steps. A hazy green fog shrouded her whole body, illuminating the night. She walked with a rigid back, green eyes wide open and staring down at me. I wasn't sure if she was a monster or not, but she wasn't all that frightening at first. Then my heart froze when she spoke.

"Hero," she whispered.

It was the same voice from my dream. I quickly set sleeping Joel down and rose into a fighting stance as Annabeth had taught me. My arrows were back in the cabin, but I had a knife that Milo gave me as a present. At the time I had been thinking, "Who gives someone a knife as a 'Let's be friends' present?" Now I thanked all the forces of the universe for it.

"She isn't dangerous, I don't think." Nico stood up beside me, a little uneasy. "Her name is Rachel Dare. She's like the host for the Oracle-"

"What is she doing?" I interrupted, the nervous panic taking hold of me. She didn't look like anything from my dream, but she caused the horrible memories to resurface. The lost, choking feeling of not seeing, hearing, feeling.

I barely noticed Nico's reassuring hand on my arm. "She's having a vision or something. The Oracle is speaking through her."

"Hero," she whispered again, still advancing in slow steps. Eventually she was at most two feet away from me. I trusted Nico, even against the boiling fear in my gut, and left the knife in its sheath. Suddenly she lifted her arm, her fingers outstretched in my direction. I backed away from the close proximity, but she continued walking. My breathing was hard and ragged. Her eyes bore into mine with such ferocity, but I couldn't look away.

Her hand met my chest. My breathing stopped. The green eyes turned completely black.

"Drown in the Night."

And she pushed me off the edge.

"I'm really sorry about earlier. Usually I don't do stuff that physical in a seeing. The Oracle must've really liked you. Well, it makes sense, since you're a son of Apollo-"

Rachel Dare talked almost as much as Milo did. After she was done scaring me to death with her creepy "I'm possessed" stuff and shoving me into lakes, she began talking like there was nothing wrong, asking how she ended up at the lake. Nico had to point out with an incredulous and shocked voice that she had just pushed me off the edge of the dock. That's when I, a wet and sputtering and shivering mess, had finally recovered enough to pull myself out of the freezing lake and back onto the wood which I was tempted to kiss with appreciation. Nico's hand on my back even felt warm. She then started fussing over me and apologizing and did this the whole way back to the sick bay, where I was able to get towels. Nico carried the still-sleeping and very much undisturbed Joel with us. The early morning sun was up and I stood in the first rays,gripping the towel that hung around my shoulders. I clamped my teeth shut to keep them from chattering. "I understand," I said through my teeth. "You can't control it. No harm done. Just a little cold."

"I think I know what I said to you," she said thoughtfully, twirling a lock of her incredibly curly and unbelievably red hair as she looked up at me. "I've had dreams of you, multiple times and frequently." And then she went on to describe my nightmare exactly as it happened every time.

This was getting weird. They both looked at me expectantly, like they thought I had the answer. "...I've had that dream a lot recently, too," I said. My fingers worked at the fabric of the towel. "I had that this morning as well. I never thought anything of it." I felt so uncomfortable. I wanted to smoke, and it hit me out of the blue, _really_ hard. My hands subconsciously felt my back pocket for the familiar, comforting box that wasn't there anymore.

Nico noticed, and I saw him smile when my hands came back empty. Did I see... happiness? Like he was proud of me. Then it disappeared again, and he switched back to serious mode. "That's what I felt this morning, then. I thought you said it was nothing," he muttered, glaring at me.

"I _did_ think it was nothing," I said, rubbing my arm self consciously. He sighed and nudged my shoulder in half-hearted apology.

Rachel yawned, stretching her arms high above her head. "Welp, I'm gonna go back to bed to catch up on the sleep I missed this morning. I'm sure a prophecy about all this will come soon, now that I've met you."

"Thanks Rachel," I replied, smiling tightly at her while suppressing a shiver. Some early risers were just beginning their day, fully dressed and armed. "Nice meeting you."

"And Rachel," Nico called to her as she left. She whipped her head around to look at him inquisitively, her neon-orange Afro swirling around her. His face grew dark and stern, even scaring me a little. "Try not to do something like that to him again."

She let out a nervous laugh, then quickly continued walking. "It isn't her fault," I whispered to him as we watched her go.

His low voice quickly replied, "I know." Even basking in the sunlight, shivers coursed up my spine, not weather-induced.


	12. Chapter 12

From my low and hidden position in the tree, I could easily shadow Austin for oncoming enemies. I adjusted my uncomfortable helmet, spitting out hairs from the ridiculously long red plume that seemed to try to choke me every five minutes. The adrenaline in my body almost reached the same level as when I run, but there was definitely more excitement. This camp _seriously_ needs to take a chill pill.

We were playing a game of capture the flag- the enhanced version: deadly weapons and rough, raw terrain are now thrown into the mix. Austin, my newly-discovered half-brother, and I guarded our red flag that was currently sitting in a small clearing in the woods. He was on ground level, since he could handle a sword better. Leo relaxed in a patch of sunlight, hands behind his head, cracking jokes at absolutely everything. I had to watch myself and make sure I didn't give my position away by laughing, but _man_ is it hard. My usual Celestial Bronze bow and arrows had been replaced with a regular bow and arrows whose tips were darts covered in a mix of Epidural and some sleep-inducing concoction made by the Hypnos cabin. I wasn't allowed to use them on anyone under 40 feet from me. Easy. I had already gotten Annabeth out when she was sneaking up on Austin to jump him. She didn't even reach the clearing before I shot her in her unprotected arm and she dropped into a pile of leaves.

Immediately after she fell, I felt uneasy. I knew that it was nearly painless and just part of the game, but… I'd never shot a _person_ before. I've never even shot animals, only the monsters that Quintenn wasn't able to get. She really looked dead too, which didn't help me at all. But occasionally she twisted in her sleep and muttered random things about "Mocha Frappe" and "Percy" and "Don't want to go to Mexico", and I got over it. Four other campers lay curled in peaceful sleep around the clearing- two Nike kids, one Ares, and one Hermes.

Earlier I noticed Milo sneaking up on me. He wasn't very subtle about it: apparently he thought the best way to get me was to try to grapple his way through the trees, from one to the next, until he reached mine. His tree-stealth-mode was almost louder than the sounds of the swordfights throughout the woods. Initially I decided to take him out, but then I thought how much not-fun that would be. A close-quarters fight would also hopefully teach me to get the hang of it.

_Finally_ he made it to my tree. I let him shimmy his way (_so_, slowly) down until he was a branch or two above me. I was getting my bow ready to use the tips as knives, tensing for combat, when-

"AAAAAAH!" _THUNK_

I sniggered at Milo as he pushed himself up off the ground and glared up at me. "You missed," I said through quiet laughter. Leo's loud laugh rang through the trees, and Austin chuckled along with him. The tense and competitive atmosphere has disappeared for a moment.

Then while Milo is pouting and looking for a way to reach me, I see Leo take something out of his tool belt and chuck it inconspicuously across the clearing in our direction. Upon closer inspection, I am quite unsettled to see that it very much resembles a grenade. Now, looking back on it, of _course_ it wasn't a grenade, but at the time I had no idea what stuff this crazy camp allowed. "Leo!" I yelled in surprise. I reach down to hold a hand out to Milo, thinking maybe we could climb our way out of this. My brain was panicked, OK?

Milo followed my gaze and his eyes widened. "What the heck-"

_POOF._ White cloudy smoke surrounded us and I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. One breath had me coughing uncontrollably for a few moments. The fog and drowning feeling reminded me of my dream, and I had to take deep, calming breaths to keep from freaking out. Focus on the game. Play the game. "What did that help?" Milo called out of the smoke somewhere- closer than I wanted.

"I don't know!" Leo yelled, his voice muffled from the clouds. "I thought maybe smoke cover was needed! Go get 'im, teammate!"

Pfft. Like that was gonna happen. I can't see anything. I couldn't even see the tree I was sitting in anymore.

"AH-" A hand grabbed my ankle and yanked me from my perch. My lungs emptied as I hit the ground hard, and I barely had time to recover before I felt strong hands reaching out to grab at my feet, my ankles, my legs, working their way up my body. I blindly kicked in the direction of the attack and winced when my foot hit flesh.

"Ow, my _gods_…" Milo swore from behind me as I crawled away.

I still gripped my bow tightly in one hand as I stood and peered through the haze for my blue-plumed attacker. "Don't touch my ankles, dude," I said in the direction of his voice. "I can't _stand_ it when my Achilles tendons are touched." Just thinking about it makes them ache, and I don't know why.

My sense of hearing worked on overdrive to locate him, but we collided with each other before I was able to put it to use. He slashed out with one of his knives immediately, giving me no time to think. I ducked and whipped my bow around to hit him across the cheek, leaving a scratch. He returned one in no time with a low blow to my calf behind the shin guard. We were so focused on our battle that nothing else was relevant. Our eyes never disconnected: his blonde hair fell from behind his oversized helmet into his light brown eyes, glaring at me in concentration so that he wouldn't miss a fatal beat. It's all I can do to keep up with his offense, dodging and blocking with my bow.

Suddenly a crack a few inches wide split the ground beneath him in a jagged line. He stumbled backwards for a moment, long enough for me to grab at the chance to whip the bow around and hit him upside the head with a hard blow, knocking him out. Once he fell unconscious to the ground, he disappeared in the fog.

"Nico," I called, blindly searching for a way out back to the clearing. It was obvious who that crack came from. I just wasn't sure why. "You know he's on your team, right?"

"Oops." I followed the voice and seconds later I was out of the smoke. Nowhere near the clearing, though. Nico stood in front of me, all the shadows drawn towards him, dimming the light of the sun. His eyes and small smirk held a mischievous gleam that resembled Milo's. Luckily the sword in his hand was _not_ made of his usual Stygian iron, but just plain metal. "I miscalculated. Honest mistake."

"Sure." He didn't look very convincing with that grin. I gripped my bow tightly in anticipation. The wound in my leg was aching more and more. It didn't help that the blood slid down into my shoe, creating a gooey, slippery mess that threw my balance off. "Well thanks, I guess."

"No problem." And then he swung the blade towards my arm. I sidestepped out of the way and mere inches from him, where I kicked him square in the chest. He fumbled backwards and nearly rolled down the hill we stood on. Unfortunately he managed to catch himself. Then he disappeared into a mess of shadows.

"Oh, that's mean," I muttered. Of course he's going to win with shadow travel.

"Yeah, it is." I didn't even need to turn around to know that he had his sword to my back. Man, it seemed like only five minutes since the game started, and now I'm out.

Seconds passed.

"…Are you gonna knock me out?"

"Um…" I heard the shuffling of leaves behind me. Well, as long as he isn't going to do it, I might as well take the chance to live. I turned around, bow ready to continue the fight. When he saw me make a move, he once again began to thin into darkness. Almost as a natural reflex, I reached out to quickly grab onto his jacket. That might have been a mistake.

The next few seconds felt like _forever_. My body was weightless, like my mind was separated from it, and the world existed only in black and white and nauseating grey. Every moment melded into a single experience, so that I was both energized and tired at once, confusion and surprise taking place at the same time. I couldn't see Nico, just glimpses of movement, like watching a scratched DVD. That weightless feeling of not existing, of not being, began the bubble of dread in my gut. I hated feeling this alone and… purpose-less.

Then I plop down onto the leaves drowning the forest floor with Nico beside me, panting heavily. Colours are so vibrant now. "Woah," he said between breaths, clutching his chest. "That was awesome! You like… I was going so fast! I feel even more energized! You gave me some sort of boost or something!" He looked at me incredulously while I tried to calm my furious heartbeat. "That was the first time that's happened. It…" He just shook his head, eyes wide with surprise. "It's just amazing."

"Yeah, well," I said after I had recovered from the shock. It felt like I had been in the bath too long- lightheaded and a little weak. "First for me too, I guess."

The single piercing note of a horn signified the end of the game. From the cheers heard close by, we had shadow-travelled further towards the center of the forest. "We should head back. Your leg needs looking at. I wonder who won." Nico muttered more to himself than to me as he helped me up and led us in the direction of the cheering.

I was still a little shaken at the travelling experience. "It better have been us after what I just went through," I said as I hobbled beside him back to camp. He laughed genuinely, which brought a small smirk to my face. That airy feeling that comes from an adrenaline high finally began to settle on me, and the sunlight only increased it. I didn't notice until later that my hand was wrapped in his, fingers entwined, like two halves of a broken mold.


	13. Chapter 13

Being with Nico is like releasing a nuclear bomb of words in my head. Like now. We were walking up the stairs to my apartment after coming home from the camp, with Joel on my shoulders and Nico at my side and my brain filled with everything I'd done and all the people I'd met while I was there. He had been talking about how amazing Jason was, and that he was glad I met him. "He's been a good friend, although we don't talk much," he said as we rounded the corner for the next flight of stairs. "He promised to build each god a respective temple, which is why he goes back and forth between the camps so much. Speaking of which, what were you doing in Kymopoleia's temple?"

I shrugged casually, causing Joel to giggle and tighten his hold on my hair. "When Jason told me about how much she was ignored and forgotten, I just felt obligated to go in and say something to her." That wasn't the whole truth though. Yes, I went in to pray to her. But I also offered her some things.

The temple/cabin was dark, lit only by a glowing stream that washed turbulently around the edges of the floor in a constant circle. Standing in the center there was a giant brown-and-white conch, as large as a bookshelf, that emitted the sounds of the sea during a rainstorm. The walls had images of crashing boats and drowning men etched into them, and the air felt damp and heavy like it might rain any moment.

From what Jason had told me, Kymopoleia really enjoyed people fearing her storms, taking it for admiration. So I sat before the conch, bowed my head respectfully, and then leaned closer to whisper into it. The sound of the waves immediately stopped when I began to speak. "Kymopoleia," I said, staring into the huge cavern of the conch. "I understand no one has visited you before, which is totally unfair, because I'm sure tons of people at this camp are afraid of your storms and drowning." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "I offer up my fears to you. I'm very, very scared of being immersed in water. I can't swim. I would drown if there were no one to help me, or if you weren't feeling particularly merciful one day. I tremble at the thought of the ocean storms and hundred-foot waves that sink ships whole. That's all caused by you. So I am afraid of you."

The conch remained silent.

"I also offer any other campers' fears that, ironically, they are too afraid to admit," I continued a little nervously. Maybe these don't count, but whatever. It's the thought. "Please, remember this when a demigod does something to incite your anger. Remember me."

I left feeling very good about the situation.

"Well…" Nico's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. We stood before the apartment. "You sure took a long time in there."

I pushed my key in and unlocked the door, stepping into the small space. "Sorry. I was just thinking about a lot of things in there. Very calm environment."

"She's the goddess of storms," I heard Nico mumble behind me. "How can she be calm?"

"Hey."

I looked up and there's Garret standing by the TV which, I noticed, was not on for the first time in a while. "Hey." I set Joel down and he ran for his dad, smiling and giggling and lighting up the room. Nico tensed behind me. It was probably uncomfortable since he'd never really met my stepdad. Garret also seemed a little nervous as he held Joel, looking between me and behind me at Nico. "How was the trip?"

"It was good. Great, actually. I kind of need to talk about it with you. Privately, without Joel." He nuzzled the little boy fondly before setting him back down.

I nodded understandingly and turned to Nico. "Do you think you could take him to the park?" I asked, once again captivated by those dark brown, unblinking rings. "I'll meet you there."

Two minutes later I'm seated on the couch across from Garret, who is sitting in one of the flimsy plastic dining chairs. He leans over, elbows on his knees and hands together under his chin, staring at the floor. My head's bringing up things like, what if he got fired? What if something horrible has happened and we'll have to move or go homeless or something?

"Son," he stated, looking me in the eyes now. I stared back patiently. "During this business trip, I apparently did some pretty eye-catching stuff. The _right_ stuff. And I've been promoted."

I felt my eyes widen. Well that was the total opposite of what I'd been originally thinking. "Yeah, and it's a big promotion too," he said when he saw my face. He allowed a smile to creep on his own. "We can afford a lot of the things we need now. You could quit your job. I can get us a better apartment and two beds and a more up-to-date TV and computer, and you some nicer basketball shoes and music lessons…" He trailed off and his face reverted back to the serious, trouble-laden face that I knew too well. "I wanted to get you a car. But… I know you've been hanging out with your friends at that camp a lot, and I think you feel better about yourself there, feeling you fit in and whatnot. If you don't want to be… _attached_ to me or my life because you are more at home at the camp, then I won't let that happen. I can provide for Joel now if you wanted to stay there. Just know that if you do that, no one is going to think of you any differently. That's completely natural for you to want to stay there."

My head was reeling from all this information. "Garret, you can't…" I sighed and shook my head. "You can't say something like that and then expect me to just leave you guys. And I wouldn't anyways. I would never leave Joel." I ran a hand through my hair, trying to figure everything out. "You definitely deserve this. Especially after taking care of me. Joel, I understand, because you two are flesh and blood. But after hearing some of the other stories of kids at camp, I could have ended up a lot worse. And that's really… awesome of you."

He smiled weakly at me. Then laughed like we had just shared a crazy secret together. I smiled with him, a sort of high taking over. He patted my back as he stood up and reached into his pocket for his phone. "How about pizza tonight?"

I chuckled and stood, still a little amazed at the good fortune. Thank whatever god made this happen. "With the stuffed crust, Joel's favourite."


	14. Chapter 14

Annabeth and Nico didn't seem like the most effective pair when it came to talking. Every few minutes, after courageous but futile attempts at conversation, a silence would spread over our group. Not the enjoyed silence shared between Nico and myself. No, this silence was blatantly awkward, leaving me to wish for something to do with my fingers. Specifically to hold and light a cigarette. My coughing was getting worse lately, long uncomfortable fits taking over at night. One noticeable difference: after brushing my teeth, my mouth actually felt _clean_. Not ash-filled like it used to. And I guess trading that for social awkwardness was a good deal.

We were on the way to the new townhouse Garret had picked out- big step up from a single bedroom apartment. Annabeth came for a short visit to tell me about a prophecy Rachel Dare had popped out. "The Oracle said that this quest required 5 people," she explained as we walked into the nicely-maintained development. Soon to be my new home. "'The foreign messenger', 'Arachne's bane', 'the shadow-walker', 'he who fights with shade,' and 'daughter of Atlas'. We think you're 'he who fights with shade', because of the saying by Dienekes during the battle of Thermopylae."

"At first," Nico piped up, "we weren't sure if I was the shade guy or the shadow guy. But we decided shadow guy was probably more likely. The foreign messenger- messenger of the gods, so an offspring of Hermes. The only foreign one at camp so far is-"

"-Milo," I interrupted, nodding in agreement. "From Switzerland."

Annabeth hurriedly spoke; I could feel her gears turning. "Exactly. So 3 down. Arachne's bane, I defeated her during the war with Gaea and I'm a daughter of Athena, her mortal enemy. So all that's left is 'daughter of Atlas', which I'm pretty sure indicates Calypso."

I still couldn't believe we were talking about the _actual_ Calypso. From the Odysseus story. Exiled to an island all by herself, to fall in love over and over again with people she couldn't ever be with, until Leo came along. "Well I can't just up and leave." I glanced at the house numbers and turned left into a branch off the complex. 5972. "I have Joel, a job, school, extracurricular-"

"There doesn't seem to be a deadline," Nico reassured me. "We just... wait for a good week to skip and go. Leo's already making a bunch of gadgets to take with us. Although I'm sure he's worried for Calypso the most."

"Yeah, ever since they returned from their around-the-world trip after he died and came back, they've been inseparable." Internally I groaned. Did _not_ need to hear about the latest demigod drama. Although I was feeling a little bad for Percy and Annabeth. He'd told me that they were going to go back with Jason to California, to begin a life in New Rome. Now their plans had to be postponed.

Finally we stopped. 5972. In the parking spot was a black Fiat. I had a funny feeling it was meant to be mine. As we walked up the steps to the black door surrounded by brick, I couldn't help but think- this is all a dream. Quests and townhouses and cars. Unreal. But the key I held slid comfortably into the keyhole and the door pushed open like it was waiting for me. The inside was _definitely_ better than the apartment. A wide living room with out-of-place beat up old chairs and a miserable sofa, a small round dining table in the dining space by the kitchen, 3 levels... I kinda just wanted to sit there and inhale.

"Wow," Annabeth said appreciatively, looking around the room. "This is pretty cool."

All new. All fresh. All different. "Yeah," I breathed out, hearing the uncertainty in my voice.

"So the quest sounds pretty dark. No pun intended." Annabeth crossed the near-empty room to pull out a chair for herself in the kitchen. We followed her in as she sat and pulled back her hair. "Rachel said something really vague, like there's some sort of darkness taking root along the coast of Georgia? It doesn't sound all that difficult, which is the only reason Percy's letting me go before we head for California."

From my position at the table, I could see taped on the wall by the door a single key that had escaped my prior notice. "But if we're going to the coast," I said as I made my way curiously to the key, "why isn't Percy coming with us? Couldn't he handle the water better?"

I had grabbed the key and read the sticky note attached: _Have a blast! _ Wow. When I turned around, Nico looked very unusually happy. I guessed it was because I'd agreed to go. "The quest doesn't call for Percy," he said, following me to the door. "It's best to go by what the prophecy says."

Ok. I get it. Don't ask questions. "Cool. You want to get pizza? I know an awesome place downtown. Best Caesar salads _ever_. And Annabeth, you said you needed to go downtown to meet someone anyways."

"You can drive?" Annabeth asked, looking quite surprised. I forget that being a demigod at the camp somewhat limits many day-to-day human activities. Trade the driving skills for Rex-qwon-do reflexes.

"I got my license ASAP, but we didn't have a car, so it was pretty useless." I locked the door behind us and slid into the driver's seat, adjusting the height and mirrors. The keys felt so strange in my hand as I turned them in the ignition. Nico got into the back and Annabeth took shotty. "It'll take me a few minutes to get used to it again."

"What if there are monsters? Three demigods in one car... If we got attacked, that's three birds with one stone." Annabeth was tense the whole drive, inhaling at every bump or sound the car made, keeping a constant watch for attackers. I made sure to drive extra carefully, just for her sanity's sake. It must be difficult to even _try_ to live in the real world. When you've been hunted by monsters your whole life and been through as much as she has, it doesn't surprise me. Hopefully her reaction during this car ride isn't any indication of how her life with Percy will turn out in California.

I pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the restaurant. My parking has always been off... Nico had to shimmy out of the door so he wouldn't hit the car beside us. He opened my door for me before the key even pulled out. He's doing that... _thing_ again. That thing where he does weird stuff for me and doesn't give any explanation and makes _me_ feel weird. Deep down, I think I enjoy it. I get those warm butterflies and my brain goes a little haywire. And then I start thinking too much, and that's when things get confusing.

When we walk in, I totally lose my train of thought. I. Love. Pizza. A lot. So much that I kinda blacked out until we were all sitting in a booth and only my plate was empty. Nico eyed me like I was some sort of wild animal, and Annabeth just stared at my empty plate in disbelief. "Sorry," I mumbled, self-consciously wiping my hands on my jeans. "I guess I was just a bit enthusiastic."

She quickly changed subjects. "Thanks for driving me out here. I'm gonna head out to talk to someone about the quest- Leo wanted me to get some supplies. After that I'll just go straight back to camp, so don't wait up."

And just like that, it was only Nico and myself and one half-eaten pizza in the booth.

As soon as she stepped out the door, Nico's voice broke through the atmosphere. "You're worried about leaving Joel behind, aren't you?"

I stared at him while he took another casual bite of pizza. Am I really that predictable? I mean, I shouldn't be worried enough to think about it as much as I have. For it to be this obvious. Quintenn will be there for him. Nothing will happen as long as he's there. Maybe I can have Leo make something for us, some kind of communication-

Nico placed a hand on mine, drawing me back to the bustle of hungry pizza-lovers and the quiet music playing through the speakers. Once again I am falling into eyes that almost contend with Joel's- totally opposite, yet equally captivating. "Don't worry. I can have people watching while we're gone. He'll be safe."

I ran my free hand through my hair and sighed through my teeth. Just let the worry and frustration seep out. "Thanks," I mumbled, staring into my empty plate. Then at our connected hands. This felt natural, yet I'm sure my cheeks were red. "They'll be back soon. Joel will want to see you. He wanted you to meet the new addition to the family." Joel had been very excited to pick out a dog.

Nico smiled. Broad and sharp-toothed and honest. "Then let's go."


	15. Chapter 15

"Son?"

"Yeah." I turned my head slightly in the direction of the small, cracked voice pulsing from the dark of my new room. The sheets twisted beside me, and in the dim light I saw the glean of pale hair and a set of eyes blink as the infantile body curled further into mine. I rubbed his back soothingly, looking back up at the unfamiliar ceiling, observing the shadows created by the raised paint. "What's up, buddy?"

He was silent for a few minutes, but I knew he hadn't fallen asleep. I knew he was calculating in his little brain what to say to me and how to say it. Finally, "Tell me a story about where you're going."

My eyes shut as I began thinking of what new fantasy adventure to describe to him. He was referring to next week, when we planned to leave for the long trek to Georgia. They were all very eager to get started, and I didn't have much going on that I couldn't skip for one week. Garret also encouraged me to go, probably because he wanted me to get involved in things I couldn't when I had to constantly take care of things at home.

That wasn't a problem anymore.

"We're going… on a very long roadtrip. To a very boring state." My whispers were swallowed by the silence, so it felt like I hadn't even said them. "On an important mission. To make things brighter. If we don't… I think that boring state will become a very _dark_ boring state. Not just at night, either. Imagine the whole day is as dark as it is now. Eventually they would go insane, and no one would live in that boring state anymore."

Not my best story, but it's two in the morning and I haven't slept yet. Joel was tired enough to let it pass unnoticed, so it served its purpose.

Small scratching at the door had me slowly slipping out of the bed and grabbing my shoes. "Bapi needs a walk," I whispered to him after I'd slid my sneakers on. I pulled the blanket up to his chin and ran a hand through his hair before opening the door quietly, to be greeted by a large and thin-haired Rottweiler smiling up at me.

"Hey, Bapi," I whispered, rubbing her head affectionately. She's the first live-in female we've had with us in years. Since my mother. I clicked her leash on and walked her patiently down the stairs, giving her old bones ample time to adjust. Joel said he wanted the oldest dog at the shelter who had been there the longest, because he wanted it to feel loved and have a great home. So he got Bapi. Who else his age is this thoughtful, especially of a _dog_?

Bapi waited patiently as I slipped into a jacket and locked the door behind us. I had no idea where we were going, but she seemed to be fine with strolling in a random direction. The darkness and the chill and the silence and the singularity of it all were strangely comforting to me as we walked beneath the foggy streetlamps, past a small playground that looked rarely used and sat at the side of an open field that probably used to be farmland. Bapi led me into it casually, as though her destination were whatever seemed nice at the moment.

We were halfway into the field when she stopped and began to growl. I glanced around us uneasily, feeling for the knife Milo gave me that now always had a place about my person. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Another new friend, I see."

Behind us, hidden in the shadows of the playground, Quintenn leaned against one of the beams. Tonight he wore a thin, oversized t-shirt and jeans, as if to laugh at the cold. And at me being cold. His skin looked even paler now against the night, his smirk more sinister, his eyes more soul-piercing. "I am very hungry." His face swiftly changed from taunting to desperate, pleading for sustenance. "Following you around is difficult, and the sun takes a lot from me."

I rubbed Bapi's head to calm her growling and walked over to him, ignoring his disgusted grimace towards the dog. My heartbeat slowed to its normal pace and my hand fell from my pocket where the knife was concealed. "I understand." I was going to walk past him, back to the edge of the field, but he tugged at my arm when I reached him, staring at my neck longingly. His eyes unsettled me as they shined like mini flashlights, reflective as a cat's. "Shouldn't we wait until we're somewhere less exposed?" I asked, turning to look across the field. Nothing stirred.

"H-hey!" I tried to push the now very intimately close and freezing body away from mine, but to no avail. The teeth were already in my neck, and to move now would just be really painful. I tensed involuntarily at the sharp, stinging pain and the lightheadedness as Quintenn gulped at my blood. The sound was really quite nauseating, which is why I never wanted to have him do this to me while I stood up, or so close to my ears where I could hear everything… "We agreed not on the neck unless you asked me," I managed to mumble out through my clenched teeth, trying to separate myself from his frequent swallowing sounds. Clutch the leash. Stare at that star. Just stare at it. Nothing else matters.

He didn't reply. His long hair slithered against my throat and into my jacket. The light sensation caused me to shiver and goosebumps to rise on the back of my neck. Only his breath was warm, at a close proximity such as this, and it pumped as fast against my skin as my blood did out of my body.

He finally stopped and just rested his head against my collarbone, breathing quickly to steady himself. I could feel a trickle of blood make its way down my neck. Ick. He licked it up slowly, humming with appreciation and holding me steady by my arms. "Sorry," he whispered, finally pulling away from me. His smiling lips were literally blood red, and a sickeningly metallic smell filled the air. "I'll help you home. You're obviously too unstable to get there safely."

"Whose fault is that?" I mumbled accusingly, but all the same leaned into the arm wrapped around me, trying my best to forget the repulsive feeling of blood forcefully leaving my body.

Quintenn led me up the stairs, standing in the doorway watching as I untied my shoes and threw my jacket on the floor to worry about later. Joel was asleep, unaware of the prominence of his foreign presence. He does this sometimes. Physically stays with me for longer than he needs to. I don't know why yet. But the feeling of his cold body pressed against mine as I lay beside Joel was one that, although not frequent, I had by now become well accustomed to. Arms wrapped solidly around me and a nose nuzzled against my neck, blowing comfortable warmth in soothing breaths. And to my surprise, these were the only things that usually got me to fall asleep.

Five hours later, when my eyes next opened, he was gone. Joel stared sleepily at me, a smile on his face that captured my immediate attention. I smiled back, searching his eyes for what made him happy so early in the morning. "What is it?" I asked.

He giggled and lifted a pudgy little hand to my chin. "You look happy when you sleep."

I kissed his forehead and sat up in bed, pulling him with me. "Well thank you. How about we go get waffles and then hang out at the park and then come home and watch Wizard of Oz, huh? Sound like a pretty good day?"

We had travelled out of the bed, me holding him upside-down and him giggling like crazy and Bapi panting with excitement as I stepped carefully down the stairs, quietly and uselessly shushing them both as we passed Garret's bedroom, giving goodbye kisses to Bapi and struggling to put on tiny little shoes and fitting tiny little arms into tiny little sleeves before jumping out the door into the dreary and grey atmosphere and hopping down steps and racing to the car and finding an amused Nico standing beside the passenger door, and no one asks questions, I just smile and he just opens the door and gets in and I start the car and we're moving. And I play the Gin Blossoms CD that Joel likes to sing to, and we're both singing and Nico is laughing at us, and this feels like the most normal thing in the world, which makes it the best thing in the world.

We reached the first red light marking the beginning of downtown, right after the highway. "Found Out About You" just came on. Joel is giggling with delight, because it's one of his favourites, although he has absolutely no idea what it means. We both begin singing, and my gaze is drawn to my left hand mirror, in which I see a guy dressed in badly torn jeans- possibly bought that way- and a loose jacket, hood up and face shadowed, just standing in the sidewalk as people pushed past him. We made eye contact.

I saw my worst nightmare. The one thing that would end my point in existing. It twisted my heart and left me speechless. Instead of a bustling downtown city, I saw Joel's dismembered and profusely bleeding, lifeless body lying in a puddle of red I identified clearly as blood.

Eye contact broke. I barely heard Nico ask me what was wrong, let alone answered him. Joel was still in the car, singing and giggling and full of life compared to what I had just envisioned. There was no way that could happen.

In the mirror, I watched as the guy turned to his left, lifted a car above his head like it was a pillow, and chuck it in our direction. There was no time to drive. There was no time to do anything but shout Quintenn's name and try to cover as much of Nico as I possibly could.

Window's smash. Cars crash. The ceiling is pushing me into Nico. I have a massive headache. Joel is screaming. For five wretchedly long seconds I am the most afraid I have ever been, that Quintenn did not make it to Joel in time. In those five seconds I see his dead body again, then in a coffin and then in the ground covered with flowers and I can't breathe. But when I finally work myself out from between Nico and the broken dashboard and activated airbag, I see that Joel is completely unharmed, at least physically.

"Oh gods," Nico is whispering. Over and over and over. I just feel sick at the sight of Joel's red and damp face as he stares at me, and he's holding his head saying "Ouch, ouch,". I think he's hurt, but when I unbuckle and reach back to get him, he sobs harder and points to my head.

"I'm ok," I whisper, hugging him close to me under the crushed roof. "You're ok. Nico, are you ok?"

Nico's face is shocked as he stares at my forehead, and that's all I have time to comprehend before I pass out.


	16. Chapter 16

It's very dark wherever I am. I find myself enjoying it.

The memories are extremely selfish, from during… I guess from during the coma I was in. I was unattached to anything. There was nothing to hold me down to feelings or caring or _anything_. I realized that this is what flying feels like. Maybe metaphorically more than physically, but I'm sure there's an emotional level to flight. I drowned in the feeling of apathy, not caring, of just existing.

But after I had just barely touched the thought as it passed me by while I floated in a neverending void of voids upon voids, I realized that there is no point in not caring, in unattachment, in "just existing". So I woke up.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. Like something had died. Then I felt an ache in my lungs and my head. The head was just a very strong headache, whereas the lungs were craving the relief only a cigarette can achieve. I opened my eyes to see myself wrapped in flimsy white sheets and laying on a not-so-comfortable bed, separated from the rest of the room by long blue curtains on either side of me. The lights were mostly off, so I assumed it was night. A heart monitor beeped steadily to my right, my pulse beating visually before me in a blatant marching-song proclaiming my existence into the eerie silence. On my left, squished into the bed with me, was a male body in black skinny jeans and a t-shirt, revealing a moon-pale arm that lay across my waist. He must've sensed I was awake, because his head came into view as he sat up beside me.

He had long black hair, so dark that it didn't reflect the single light from the ceiling, and the clearest blue eyes I've ever seen. My hand moved of its own accord to reach out and finger a strand of his silky hair, giggling at how smooth it was in my hand. I knew him, and I knew that I knew him… but I couldn't find his name. I knew that it should be in there somewhere, in the files of my brain, and it just… wasn't. Like they had been burned away. The more I tried to remember, the more my head hurt. I tried to think of situations we'd had before, of scenarios with him in them, but I couldn't even remember interacting with him.

I marveled at the way his fingers laced into mine. "Do you know who I am?" His gaze was very solemn and piercing and stern, and it scared me.

I lay there in the bed, feeling my face contort into a frustrated frown. Why can't I remember his name? Why can't I remember him? I _know_ him. I do.

"My name is Quintenn. I died in 1768. I am a Strigoi. We make an annual deal since eight years ago that I'd protect you and your family in exchange for sustenance. You have a line of solid black dots tattooed down your spine, one for each year." It scared me more when the information didn't sound familiar to me, but he didn't stop there. "Two days ago, you were involved in an accident caused by the god Timor. As far as I could understand, you suffered severe injuries to your frontal lobe due to a six-by-four inch shard of glass that punctured your skull. The damage to your brain has erased parts of your memory and will forever affect your learning ability."

The most I felt was confused, and a little woozy. I didn't remember an accident, I didn't remember Quintenn, I didn't remember tattoos… I definitely remembered Joel though. And Nico. Their faces passed through my mind for a second. Yeah… they'd been in the accident, right? Joel was ok. I checked, I'm sure he's ok.

"You are _not_ going to forget me." Quintenn drew me out of my thoughts by crawling over me and bringing his face very close to mine, our eyes inches apart. "You can't forget me. You won't forget me." And with that he forcefully pushed his lips against mine. Our eyes remained open. Somehow I wasn't surprised, which made me wonder, Did this always happen? Was our relationship like this before? I think I was too confused and dazed to really understand what was happening. But the act made my headache lessen noticeably, the cold touch spreading throughout me and soothing the soreness.

He pulled away, his gaze never leaving mine. "Someone's come to visit you. Don't forget me."

"Dude!"

As soon as the word was whispered, Quintenn disappeared like he'd never been there in the first place. I looked to the entrance of the room to see a blonde-haired, green-eyed boy my age sneaking in like a thief would. He glanced around him warily before perching in the chair beside me. "You have no idea… I just broke into a hospital to see you, man…"

Despite not knowing this person's name, I laughed at his persistence. His eyes widened in shock and he quickly reached over to cover my mouth. "You're gonna get me caught!"

I licked his hand. He whined in disgust and wiped it on his pants. "You couldn't wait until visiting hours?" I asked incredulously as he tried in desperation to sanitize his hand. "This could get you in jail if you're found out."

"But I won't be, now will I? At least if you stop laughing as loud as a hyena." He grinned when I chuckled some more, but then his face turned sad. "Are you ok?"

I shrugged, unsure if I was or not. "At the moment, I don't feel anything emotionally, except confused and happy. But I'm sure that will change. Actually… I can't remember your name, or how we met. But I remember doing stuff together."

Surprisingly he seemed rather excited. "Great! That means my last introduction can be perfected! "

"What happened last time?"

He smiled sheepishly at me as he remembered. "Well, let's just say my intro-trick wasn't very gratifying, so it's going to be better this time. But my name is Milo Greene." I smiled. Yeah. Milo. I remember now. "We're in a quest together. We were supposed to start next week, but-"

"We're still going as planned," I interrupted. I remembered enough about it to know that the other people involved were already prepared. This was a big deal. No way am I blowing it. "Once I'm recovered, we're leaving on schedule. I'll heal quickly and everything will be fine."

"Awesome!" He said it with such enthusiasm, but I could see in his eyes that he looked sad, like the delay was inevitable.

Milo stayed for hours. Sometimes we talked, other times we just sat together. The company was appreciated. Twice the nurse came in to check on the patients, and he concealed himself behind my bed and the table. I discovered a few things. Like morphine is really, really nice. And hospitals get progressively colder the longer you stay in one. And that the more tired Milo gets, the stronger his accent becomes. A few minutes before he fell asleep, he might as well have just been speaking Swedish, because I couldn't understand a word he mumbled. My body wanted to sleep too, but it couldn't shut off. The headache came creeping back.

It must've been morning because Garret walked through the curtains, carrying a thankfully intact Joel in his arms. He looked a little surprised at Milo's sleeping form slumped over in the uncomfortable folding chair, but didn't comment. Joel bubbled over with happiness at seeing me as he crawled his way into my lap.

"You have to get better soon," he whispered over and over, touching my face and examining my bandages like he was a concerned doctor.

"I'm already like, a million percent better now that you're here," I said as I nuzzled him close. He nearly squeezed me to death in a hug, but I couldn't help thinking with a smile that that would be the best way to die.

Garret sighed as he took the only remaining chair beside snoring Milo. He just stared at me over Joel's shoulder, taking me in with sad eyes. "I guess it's a good thing you got that raise," I said jokingly, conveying my guilt about him having to pay the hospital bills and car repairs. I'm sure the total price is a four digit number. He didn't laugh or speak or do anything but stare at me.

I'm just glad no one cried. Then Joel would have cried too.

The next day I was out of the hospital, with a business card for two therapists, one physical and one mental, and two prescription pills for pain and sleep. Annabeth had visited me, and we solidified the plans to begin two days from now. Nico did not visit, which made me worry a little bit, even if I didn't know what about exactly. Maybe he was afraid I wouldn't remember him? Maybe he thought I'd be a different person now? I was told I'd broken one of his ribs while trying to see if Joel was ok after the crash. Maybe he hates me for injuring him. Whatever the reason, he'd have to talk to me sometime. We'd be stuck in a car for hours together in two days. Hopefully we'll have come to some sort of conclusion by then, or else that will be really awkward.

Mandy, Joel, and I were currently seated on the un-indented and new-smelling couch watching Wizard of Oz on the much larger screen than we were used to. While Joel seated in my lap was completely absorbed in the movie, Mandy whispered to me- about now dating Jake (whose name I strangely did remember), about how she visited me in the hospital but I had been asleep, then asking if I needed something, then about a basketball game she and Jake were going to and how I should totally come. She played with my free hand, feeling the fingers like she was making sure I didn't disintegrate.

Garret was still as supportive as ever, encouraging me to do what I thought was right. "Either go on this… quest thing," he said, his eyes serious and concerned, "or give yourself some time to rest first. I personally am very… very worried about you. But I've had to live with you for a while now, and I know you're always gonna do the right thing, and you're gonna be fine."

I just tried not to think too much about anything before the crash, because it hurt a lot. Quintenn and Annabeth had said that Timor caused the accident, but they weren't sure why. It's possible he was connected to the quest and wanted to get some demigods out of the way. He knows everyone's deepest, darkest fear, and can stuff it in their faces. That explains why I saw what I did at the accident, but I hate thinking about it anyways. It was so realistic, so vivid.

Mandy fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. Her slow, even breathing echoed through my body in an extremely familiar way that brought back hollow shells of memories. Most of them involved me smoking. The yearning feeling for a cigarette, I realized, was connected to Nico somehow. I just missed him existing in the same space with me, which was not something new- at least since I had been out of a coma.

I wondered, as I stared at the Wicked Witch melting into a puddle on the floor with two sleeping people on me, if I would fall asleep myself.


	17. Chapter 17

Joel had been a mess of tears.

"Why can't I come?" I managed to decipher the sob-filled sentence. He sat in my lap in our tiny little front yard, his head propped up against my chest. Who knows how long we sat like that. I made sure to cement the feeling of his hair and the sound of his voice in my brain- hopefully further down in there this time, so it couldn't be erased. Quintenn was going to stay here to guard him while I was gone. That gave me quite a lot of comfort.

"You wouldn't like it," I whispered back. "It's a long, boring road trip, and they won't even be playing good music along the way." The others should be here any minute to pick me up, first to head back to camp. Then off we go.

"But... you'd be there."

He talked like I was leaving for good, and it just about killed me. I reached into my backpack and pulled out two devices, exactly the same. They looked like 4-by-4 inch box TV's attached to a thick metal stand to hold. "You remember Leo?" I Wasn't actually sure if Joel had met Leo, but he nodded tearily. "You remember he came to visit yesterday? He gave me these. You keep one, and I keep one, and and night we can talk to each other." I think Leo had told me how to operate it, but it took me a minute to figure it out again. "You hold this button here to turn it on... and as soon as you do, the other one turns on too." Both screens popped to life, reflecting a puffy-eyed Joel and myself.

He fiddled with it a minute, sniffling quietly to himself, before turning around to squeeze the life out of me. "I love you, Son," he whispered in my ear.

"I love you too, little man."

Annabeth and Calypso had come in our "questing car" to get me- which happened to be a rather huge minivan. Annabeth was driving, but her eyes were wide open and her knuckles were white, so I drove back to camp. Let me tell you, driving a minivan is like trying to direct an elephant with a carrot on a stick.

We stopped on the road outside the barrier where Nico and Milo waited with Chiron and some "send-off" campers, including Will. He had come to visit while Jake was there (and they'd gotten along well), which is why I remember his name now. But before, I didn't even remember meeting him.

"How you feeling?" He seemed a little apprehensive. Possibly because I was driving again.

"To tell you the truth, just tired and feeling-less right now." These pain meds are really strong. I found out last night in bed that if I focus hard enough, I can make my legs feel like lead.

He handed a plastic bag through the window. "The drinks were made specially for you by the rest of the Apollo cabin," he said. "They're supposed to be pain-relieving without side effects. And the snacks are for everyone, just better than fast food crap."

All I could think was, I must've been really great friends with this guy.

The only other driver in the group was Milo, who, unlike Annabeth, had a license. So after we all piled into the van and settled down, Annabeth calculated how often we had to stop for gas, sleep, food, bathrooms, switching drivers, etc. Milo chimed in that he had a bladder of steel, and that he had once taken a 6 hour trip with his parents without excreting anything but sweat. Calypso in her motherly tone asked if that was really something to be proud of, and if he wanted a medal.

I noted that Nico was silent in the seat behind me.

I had been driving for hours. My brain told me it wasn't sleepy, but definitely wanted a break soon.

"Take the next ramp off the highway," Annabeth mumbled through a yawn. "We'll sleep in a hotel." Perfect timing, although everyone else was already asleep. The headlights guided me through the dark and I managed to keep the van from tipping as we made the tight turn. The harshly-glowing neon red "8" had never seemed so welcoming before. I pulled the car to a stop outside the doors and unbuckled before Annabeth could. "I'm the most awake. I'll just ask if they have available rooms before anyone has to wake up."

She was too tired to argue. When I approached the man at the desk, I realized he was staring at my forehead. The stitches were still in, so it must've looked pretty bad. "Do you have a 2-bed room available?"

His stare never left my head. "Yes sir, we do," he answered politely, like nothing was wrong with his fascination with my injury. He pushed a clipboard in my direction. "Just sign here," he pointed without looking. The nametag read Menny. I glanced back down at my signature and frowned when I noticed an extra "e" on my last name. Have I been putting extra "e's" in everything I've written in the past few days? Boy, that'll be embarrassing when someone notices. Unfortunately, I'd signed in pen. Oh well.

I went back to the van, handed Annabeth a room key, and told her to just get everyone inside. She basically sleep-walked herself out to pull the other half-dead demigods from their seats and into the tall brick buliding. Milo complained about having to pee.

I was unloading luggage and weapons and food from the trunk, and nearly jumped into the door above my head when Nico's hands reached past to grab a bag. "Oh man..." I clutched my head, which began to ache again. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Sorry." His white teeth flashed a smile through the night. That's the first word he's said to me since the accident, and I reveled in his voice. All too soon it was replaced with a sad frown. "I mean that in a lot of ways."

"I'm sorry I broke your ribs." He probably got them healed up in a couple of hours by the Apollo cabin. We pulled luggage and swords through the reception area and up the stairs- elevator out of order. I found myself smiling with giddy happiness. "At least you're not mad at me like I thought you were."

He didn't answer. Maybe he _is_ mad. We shoved bags and bodies through the door to the 3rd floor and I decided I didn't want to know if he was or not. Room 316. 5 people, 2 double beds. I reaaally don't want to sleep on the floor, especially after driving so long. I swiped the keycard in the door handle.

"You're a little... different."

My hand tensed on the handle. Is different bad? Was I better before? Do other people think I'm different too? Does... does Joel think I'm different?

"The past few days I've been scared of a lot of things. That you would forget me, or hate me. I was scared for you, that you'd not be able to socialize anymore, or become totally mentally disabled and I thought if you were and you hated me, I wouldn't be able to take care of you properly because you wouldn't want me to-"

I was still processing "different". Is this supposed to be some kind of apology, for something he didn't even cause? "Nico," I interrupted, turning to face him. Sure enough, his face was guilt-ridden and heavy with sadness. "I _am_ a little different now. Things won't be the same. You didn't make it happen. Nobody can do anything about it. I definitely don't hate you, so you can take care of me all you want. I'll be needing it. But if you keep freaking out and ignoring me, I start freaking out and going a little crazy. So quit it."

5 seconds of silence felt like ages. Then the smirk was back, and I knew everything was ok. I swiped the card and pushed the door open, feeling... resolved.

No one had even waited to change: Calypso and Annabeth were fast asleep in one bed and Milo waited to share the other. Nico muttered about taking the floor, so I gladly and without question parked the bag by the TV and slid in next to a half-asleep Swede. He gave me a goofy, lidded smile and pulled me down before I was even under the covers. I struggled to pull the sheets over me while still in his sleepy death-grip, already shivering. Nico made a makeshift bed on the floor out of extra blankets we'd brought. I could see his shadowy form moving in the pitch black of the small room.

Within minutes, the room was filled with long and even breathing. Milo's warm, heavy breath slid over my neck comfortingly, and should've lulled me to sleep too. It didn't. That was the night I began to expect regular insomnia.


	18. Chapter 18

I slipped out of the room early that morning before anyone had woken up, feeling just as tired as I had been when I lay down. I was so tired that I nearly tripped over Nico on the floor. No sleep, fourth night in a row. Maybe tonight I should try some of that drink Will gave me.

In my hand was the TV-looking device that… what's his name… Theodore (?) gave me. Once again it took me a few minutes to re-understand how to work it, but soon the screen was alive with Joel's sleepy face on it, smiling tiredly at me. The new dog's nose poked through some of the sheets and huffed loudly. "Hey buddy," I said, sliding to sit against the wall. "How you doin'?"

"Nice." I realized he was in my room, curled up in my bed. His smile made my stomach warm. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine. We stopped at a hotel last night-" Annabeth staggered out of the room, her bed-head resembling a peacock's tail, and yawned as she made her way to the elevator. _Towels,_ she mouthed to me. I nodded. "Nothing much has happened yet. Very boring without you here, little man."

He stared into the screen for a while. Not a lot had to be said. His giggle was so familiar when the dog nosed into his tummy. Something tugged at the back of my mind, but I didn't even try to catch it anymore. I already learned whatever memory may have existed wasn't coming back, no matter how hard I tried. I'd only get a headache.

We closed the conversation when a much more awake Annabeth stormed back out of the elevator, towels in hand and an angry frown plastered onto her face. She slammed the room door behind her as she went in. "Um… I'm gonna have to go. Annabeth seems to have some sort of… issue."

When I went back into the room, almost everyone was awake. Grumpy, but awake. Except for Milo, who was completely lax in the bed, still asleep. "What happened?" I asked.

"I found out the hard way that our receptionist is Menoetius, god of insults. Apparently he's here for 20 more years because he mocked Aphrodite's hairstyle." She threw a towel at Milo, who didn't even flinch.

"I've met him," Calypso muttered, brushing her hair out. "He was such a jerk. Don't ask him any questions. He'll just find a way to insult you."

We all made our way downstairs with the luggage after we had showered and eaten. I'd also gotten a small notebook from the giftshop to write things down in. That way I'll never forget anything anymore, I'll just study what I've written. Nico, Annabeth, and I brought up the rear with the last of the swords and bags. We passed the front desk, and Menny sat behind it looking quite bored as he read a fashion magazine. He glanced up at us briefly. "Nice getup, kid," he said to Nico. "You bringing Backstreet back?"

Nico froze beside me. I felt the anger radiating off him. "Nico…" I brushed his fingers with mine, gently and hopefully in a calming manner. "He's just trying to rile you up," I whispered. "It's his job. Just ignore him-"

"I'll ask you to say that one more time," he interrupted me, turning to throw Menny a cold stare past me, "a little more politely."

Just Menny's smirk was enough to irritate me. "I'm just saying, you look like a Halloween costume gone bad. You could use-"

He never got to make his suggestion. At that moment, the marble floor cracked open beneath him, and he didn't have time to do anything but look shocked as he fell through the crack. It closed over him with a resounding _boom_. Nico turned and walked out like nothing had happened. "He obviously didn't know who he was dealing with."

I stood for a moment and marveled at the whole situation. Then I speed-walked after Nico, a little bit in awe of him.

Milo only drove five minutes before we decided it was safer to switch with me: Annabeth heard him snoring at a red light. So I resumed my position behind the wheel while Milo slept in the back seat. Annabeth seemed very interested in learning. I tried to explain it to her as we cruised along the highway in the morning fog.

"So Bernard-" because Calypso said "Questing Van" was too long of a name- "is an automatic, which is great news for you because it's less to worry about. So there are two breaks, one of which is the emergency break for… emergencies. It's usually either on the left of the break and gas, or up here past the… um, this handle thingy." I totally forgot the name, but Annabeth didn't comment.

Hours and hours more passed, Milo snored in the seat behind me, Calypso and Nico talked about some friends of hers that he'd met in the Underworld. By the time we entered Alabama following Chiron's directions, Annabeth knew most of the basics of driving. She even looked like maybe she'd try it out on the way back. Hopefully I didn't forget anything.

We passed a sign for Mobile, Alabama. Soon afterwards a tiny little town grew in the distance, small and old-looking buildings spread far apart in the dry landscape. "That way there," Annabeth said, pointing to a path veering off the main road. There were a few lights here and there, one for a motel, a few for restaurants. Further down I could make out some grocery stores. For the most part it was just empty and dead- pretty creepy.

A short distance down the path and suddenly the ocean appeared. I had no idea we were so close to the sea, but it was a beautiful surprise. That's the only good thing that could be said about this town so far. "What exactly are we supposed to be doing?" Milo asked as I pulled the van to a stop in front of the thin strip of beach. There didn't seem to be any signs telling us what to do next. "Was the quest-riddle-thing that the Oracle gave you any more specific than just 'Drive to Alabama'?"

"Well…" Annabeth looked around nervously. She hopped out of the car, all of us following her lead. "We're supposed to meet a guide. I don't know when-"

"Right about now, I'd say!"

Behind us on the higher part of the beach stood a young kid, no more than ten, with shaggy blond hair and playful, electric blue eyes that I found difficult to look at. He grinned like he meant it, wide and excited. His blue toga matched the colour of the clearest waters. "Palaemon, at your service." He took a dramatic bow. "God of waves, minor god of the sea. Let's get going, shall we?"

"Umm…" Annabeth looked confused as Palaemon walked happily down the beach towards the ocean. "Wait a minute! What's the quest actually about? Where are we going?"

He in turn gave her a confused glance, still smiling. "Hasn't the Oracle told you? I thought you'd know by now." He laughed it off and slid into the tide, whistling loudly against the wind. "The forces of darkness- quite literally- against the forces of light. The classic good vs. evil. Nothing special about this one. It's just like every other quest. Come along!"

Annabeth huffed at his response. Several dolphins rose from the surface, chittering and clicking to each other. Palaemon clicked right back, a cheerful smile on his face. He mounted one with ease, and I knew immediately it was going to take me forever. Calypso jumped on one's back like a pro, rubbing the smooth skin affectionately. Milo's dolphin flipped him in circles, completely dousing him. He seemed to fit so well in the water, like a surfer who rode waves all day every day with his fair hair and slightly-tanned skin. Palaemon rode the largest dolphin, and when his tunic touched the water it melted into the ocean. "We'll reach the island in just under a day. Hope you guys are good swimmers! These dolphins like to dunk you every once in a while."

When I headed for an empty dolphin, it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't really like the ocean. In fact, I discovered that I _hated_ the ocean. I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at the water just barely reaching my toes in the sand, then edged away from the cold touch. Dread and fear boiled in the pit of my stomach. I felt physically sick when I thought about entering into the ocean. No way am I going to wherever we're going on the back of a dolphin, with no solid surface to stand at least 10 feet away from the water.

Calypso noticed my paralyzation on the shore. "What's wrong?" she called out, concerned.

I shook my head, eyeing my chittering dolphin splashing happily in the waves. "Was I scared of the ocean before?" I asked. Did I know Calypso enough that she would be able to answer that question? Probably not, now that I think about it. "Because I definitely am now."

Nico looked back at me guiltily, like he just remembered something. "That's right, you're afraid of water. I totally forgot."

"Yeah, well, so did I," I answered absentmindedly. I looked at them forlornly from the beach. It's not fair to the rest of them for me to hold them up like this. But the unjustified fear of drowning scared me more than disappointing the rest of the team. "I don't think I can do this, guys. I'm really sorry."

Annabeth calculated the situation, picking at her shirt's hem in concentration. "No problem. We could split into two groups, one with Palaemon and one on a boat rental. That would actually be better planning: we'll have a way of getting back without inconveniencing another god."

Nico volunteered immediately to go on the boat with me, and Milo shortly after him. Calypso joked that she and Annabeth would finally get some free time, not having to babysit us guys for a while. It made me feel a little better, that no one seemed too upset about the dilemma. We split the rations, ambrosia, and money from Annabeth's bag, and Palaemon gave us coordinates to the island. "You're going to get a bit lost," he said, smiling unceasingly, "because you can't find this island if you already know where it is!"

They swam away following his lead, while Milo, Nico and I headed for the boat rental down the beach. I hate sand in my shoes. I'd have to write that in my notebook, so I remember never ever ever to come to a beach again after this quest. I don't care what any oracle says. We arranged ourselves a small two-decker boat which Milo enchanted to take care of itself, since none of us knew anything about sailing. We stored our gear away, leaving weapons out and ready just in case. Once on the boat, I felt completely safe. Maybe I wouldn't get too close to the edge, but I could sit and close my eyes against the wind, rock with the feel of the waves, enjoy the salty smell of the air. Not for long, however.

"I'm _starving_," Milo groaned for the millionth time since we left ten minutes ago. This time, Nico agreed that he was also very hungry.

I sighed and got up to go downstairs to the small kitchen. "I guess I'll cook, then," I said, taking the hint. "Since no one else is willing to even _try_. You guys come watch though, so you can do it later. I get to have first watch for this."

Milo and Nico followed, Milo exalting to the skies his love of food and Nico silent as ever, but smiling along with us.


	19. Chapter 19

I shuffled into the bedroom to claim the sofa, my shift finished. Milo and Nico had the two available single beds, but Nico had guard duty now. Milo snored away in his bed, unaware of my arrival. I slipped off my shoes and grabbed the notebook to begin writing what I remembered about the day.

In the back, where I wrote "character analysis's" of everyone I knew, I added Menny to the list. "God of insults, huge jerk, do _not_ confront" all went below his name. Then I wrote down some info on Palaemon. Back at the front of the book, I recorded the date and the day's events- as much of it as I could remember, which wasn't too much at this point. I did remember what I made for dinner: a Nacho Tower, layers of chips filled with cheese and salsa and microwaved for a few minutes. Delicious, if I do say so myself, as did Milo. Nico stubbornly claimed he could make better. I don't believe him. I wrote about hating water-immersion and sand, and about Milo's sleeping issues. They're totally not safe. I think he might have narcolepsy. I wrote to take him to the doctor when we got back.

Nico stuck his head through the door, a worried look on his face. "We've got a problem," he said. "Come up with the medical kit."

And then he left. I shook Milo as awake as possible and piggy-back-carried him half-asleep and angry out of the room with me, grabbing the medkit off the wall on our way up the stairs. It was pitch black outside, only lit by a small lamplight by the stern. I noticed the waves were extremely choppy, causing us to topple back and forth while heading for Nico. I set Milo down on the deck and raced to Nico's crouched form. He sat next to someone lying still on the deck. Once close enough, I realized it was an unconscious Annabeth.

"How did she get here?" I asked, kneeling down beside her. She wasn't bleeding anywhere, her arm was twisted into an unnatural position. From what I could make out in the dark, she looked pale and lifeless. Quickly I checked her pulse- still beating.

Nico shook his head. "I was down at the other end of the boat, looking around, and I heard a splash from behind me. I turn to look, and Annabeth has been catapulted from the ocean and lands smack on the boat. She looked like she hit her head pretty hard. I was hoping a son of Apollo would be able to do something."

While I searched the medkit for the right supplies, I felt his eyes on me. We both knew that I wasn't very adapted to the healing part of my father's powers. Even if I was, I wouldn't remember much of it after the accident. "I'll do my best," I murmured. At least I knew what the names on the medicines in the kit were, and what they were used for. I took one- an anesthetic- pulled some into a syringe, and emptied it into a vein. At least, I hope it was a vein. It was a bit dark to tell. Then I grabbed a splint and some gauze and lined the piece of wood against her arm. I braced myself, then pushed against the broken bone with all my might. The anesthetic was so strong she didn't even flinch. I wrapped it up quickly, then did the same against her back.

"Did she break her spine?" Nico asked. His face was as pale as hers when he asked.

I shook my head reassuringly. "No. It's just in case she fractured something in the spinal column. This'll help it heal a little faster, plus some ambrosia. She should be fine." I turned her head to examine what was probably a huge bruise. It felt a little soft and sore to the touch, but everything was intact. We carefully carried her downstairs (just about when Milo woke up and asked what was happening), mindful of the waves jerking the boat, to one of the beds. There I fed her some ambrosia, and within minutes her colour returned. Soon afterwards her eyes opened.

"Ugh…" She groaned and squinted even in the dim light, holding her hand up to shield her eyes. She saw the splint, and her brows furrowed in confusion, then remembrance. "I… Where's Calyspo? She was with me. Where's Palaemon?"

"We haven't seen them," Nico answered from the other side of the bed. "You just popped out of the ocean onto the boat, about an hour ago. What happened?"

Her eyes widened as she remembered. "We were riding the dolphins fine, until it started getting dark. Then the water got really bad, and Palaemon was having a hard time keeping us on the dolphins. Even he couldn't control the waves. Then… I guess I fell off. I started drowning. Calypso was still on her dolphin. Maybe she and Palaemon made it." She tried to sit up in her excitement, but winced when she felt the board digging into her back. She paled again, just as Nico had when the same thought crossed his mind. "Is my-"

"No, he just took some precautions," Nico answered for me. "In case your spine was fractured."

"I could take it off now." I reached for the scissors on the bedside table. "The ambrosia has probably healed it already."

She gladly let me remove the board, then lay back into the pillows with a sigh. "Maybe Calypso will show up soon, too," she remarked, her eyes closing. "Maybe we'll all end up on the boat. I wonder who's doing this though…"

With that she fell asleep, leaving the three of us to wonder about who and _why_ someone would want to congregate us on a single ship. Easier to kill all at once, I suppose. But why not kill Annabeth when they had her in the water? Why take her to the ship?

Nico sighed and headed for the door. "I'm going to go back to watching." I nodded and Milo snored from the second bed. I stayed in the seat by Annabeth, occasionally checking her forehead for signs of a fever. I was only doing the basics, what you get pounded into your head from health class and from having to do it your whole life. It made me remember when I was eight, out practicing my archery, and got attacked by some sort of Hellhound. Luckily it wasn't as large as most, but it ripped open my thigh and broke a rib or two. I was eight and had to take care of that myself. No way could I show my parents. They'd freak out and never let me back outside the apartment. So I had cleaned and stitched the wound as best I could, which I guess comes naturally since my dad's the God of Medicine. I had bandaged and splinted my own broken bones. That was the worst part. My lungs ache just remembering the applied pressure, the constant tugging pain begging me to stop.

In the early morning, Joel called on the TV thingy. I was about to cheerfully tell him about our trip so far, when Mandy's face slid beside Joel's on the screen. My smile froze.

"Hey, man!" she said in a whisper. I guess Garrett is asleep. The screen shifted as she turned the device about, admiring the new technology. "Where the heck have you been? And what is this thing?"

My mouth went dry. I can't lie. It's obvious when I do, especially to Mandy. "It's something a friend made," I answered quickly to cover the pause. "He's super handy with this stuff. Joel, what's his name?"

"Leo," he giggled from out of shot.

"Leo," I agreed. Mandy nodded, her mouth forming an 'o'. She was still a little suspicious.

"Well Joel tells me you've been travelling with some friends. Do I know them?"

My brow creased as I tried to remember if she did. "I don't know if you do or not. They're Nico, Milo, Annabeth, and Calypso. Did I introduce you?"

She shook her head. "Tell me where you are, dude! Jake and I have been worried!"

It never even occurred to me to let them know I was leaving. I totally forgot. Some friend I turn out to be. "I'm sorry, Mandy. Things just got away from me, I forgot to tell you. We're…" My mind worked. How much can I tell? "We've driven to Alabama and are currently on a boat we rented. They just want to hang out, apparently. Not sure how long we're going to be on this thing."

She laughed at me. I found her smile quite refreshing. "You _hate_ water!" she said through chuckles. "Some trip this must be!"

I laughed quietly with her. "Yeah, I remembered once we got on board. Unfortunately we all took one vehicle up here, so no escape for me."

We talked mindlessly. Joel played with her hair as he stared at me through the screen. She told me about Jake's MIT scan for his migraines. I told her (and got footage for her) of Milo's excessive snoring and his possible narcolepsy. Back and forth for hours, until Joel was asleep and Mandy was close to it. We said our goodbyes and hung up. The clock read 4 am, about an hour past Milo's watch shift. What was Nico doing?

I sat on the edge of Milo's bed and prodded his back gently. "Milo, it's your turn to take watch," I whispered close to his ear, still nudging. He groaned and flailed in his sleep, first hitting me across the face and then shoving me off the bed. On the way down, my head hit the bedside table, right by the stitches. I prevented myself from screaming and instead just sat on the floor clutching my head for a few minutes to cry silently. Man, that hurt like Hell. But I knew that Milo didn't mean to do it. So once the pain subsided, I stood back up and pulled Milo's arms around my neck, tugging him out of the bed. He dragged behind me out the door and up onto the deck.

But Nico wasn't there.

Instead Calypso lay on her stomach, unconscious and breathing heavily and bleeding from her nose. A puddle of blood surrounded her mouth, almost suffocating her. Without thinking, I dropped Milo and raced to turn her on her back. She grunted and her eyes opened to squint at me through matted eyelids. "Milo!" I called to the grumpy Swiss. "Get the medkit!"

Luckily he was awake enough to do as I said, hurrying back over and gaping at the blood. Calypso groaned as I felt her stomach for broken ribs. Nothing, but a huge bruise across the skin. Her shoulder had popped out of joint. As I did for Annabeth, I gave Calypso some anesthetic before quickly shoving the joint back into place. She gripped Milo's hand with all her might, which was apparently quite a lot going by the pained look on his face. I pushed her nose back into place as well, and ignored her yelp of pain. If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to continue. She also had a black and blue bruise travelling down her temple to her jaw and cheek, from when she'd landed on the boat. Milo helped me to carry her downstairs to the other bed, where we lay her quietly and Annabeth didn't wake up. "Where is Nico?" I asked as soon as she was settled. I handed her a towel for her nose and began wiping the blood out of her hair with another washcloth. "Was he on deck when you fell?"

She nodded, lifting the towel to her nose and holding her head back. "He came over to help me, but the boat toppled against some rough waves and he fell overboard. It was almost like the water grabbed him."

"What happened after Annabeth fell off the dolphin?" Milo asked, keeping his voice low for once to let Annabeth sleep. I handed her some of Will's blue concoction which she drank without question. "What happened to Palaemon?"

"We were looking for her. It started raining super hard and the waves were _terrible_. One minute Palaemon's riding next to me, and the next I've lost him over a tall wave. Then I get pulled under and choke for a few minutes before I black out, and wake up here."

Her eyes began closing even as she spoke. I reassured her that things would be relatively Ok and that she could sleep with the knowledge that when she awoke a Nacho Tower would await her. Milo and I teetered out of the room, rocking with the harsh waves. As soon as the door shut, it was like the wall of seriousness and confidence was crushed to bits. My heart raced and I started hyperventilating. Nico's gone. Calypso and Annabeth are busted. Milo's an accident waiting to happen. Everyone's getting hurt! Why couldn't I have been a healer instead of an archer? Why did I have to get _that_ gene?

"Hey! Calm down!" Milo rubbed circles on my back soothingly, looking me forcefully in the eye. "You said so yourself. Things are gonna be at least _sorta_ Ok. Just breathe, man. Nico's gonna be spit out of the ocean sometime, and you've done an awesome job so far of patching them up." The look on my face must not have changed, because he pulled me into a tight hug. I hugged back without hesitation, sniffling into his shoulder. "We're getting closer to the island," I heard him whisper into my neck, "where we're gonna beat the crap outta darkness or whatever and then head back to camp, with everyone in one piece. Don't freak out yet."

But I _was_ freaking out. Nico wasn't there.


	20. Chapter 20

It's my turn to take watch up on deck out in the continuous waterfall of death pouring from the sky and try to keep from being thrown overboard by massive waves. So I figure I'll make the most of it: I didn't have my swimsuit, but I went out in my boxers, quiver and bow strapped over my shoulder. It's not like I could actually shoot anything in this weather, but just in case. Milo suggested I tie myself to the railing so I can haul myself back on board if I fall, but I think that would just help me drown because I'd drag behind the boat. So I sat on a bench gripping the handrail as tightly as possible, somewhat enjoying the water pelting my skin at a million miles an hour. The waves were crazily high, crashing against the side of the boat like icy hands swatting an annoying bug. Every once in a while I found myself smiling at just how amazing this was. I never really thought of these things as feats of nature, but when it's this close and you don't see the god controlling it, it's even more astounding.

A streak of lightning lit up the black sky long enough for me to spot something flying through the air. Heading straight for the boat. I had to cover my ears at the deafening crack of thunder that followed, but heard quite clearly the sickening smack of something hitting the deck. My heart pounded heavily as I realized what- _who_ it was. All fears of drowning fled my mind as I raced to the motionless body. I slipped on my way there in something thicker than the rain, and sticky sweet with a smell I knew well. My heart stopped altogether as I ignored the new bruises forming on my body and slid my fingers gently under black hair matted with blood to lift his head. Nico's eyes were rolled back into his head, the flesh of his arm was speared on his broken bone, and scary bruise travelled from his temple down his throat.

My head was panicking, thinking about all that watery blood I sat in. My hands did all the work, memorized from repetition. I checked his pulse- slowing, and fast. Probably water in his lungs. I performed mouth-to-mouth without a second thought, trying to beat his heart back to life. Water sputtered from his mouth immediately, but he didn't become conscious. He was losing too much blood too quickly.

My breath shortened as I realized what this meant: I just resuscitated his heart so that it would pump blood, when he's already losing so much. I just made it worse.

I barely noticed Milo calling to me from the doorway as my mind raced. There's no way to help him medically. No binding or wrapping would fix it. I needed a miracle. There's got to be something, right? I'm the freaking son of Apollo, there has to be some sort of gimmick or trick that will instantly make everything better. I jumped at another flash of lightning, roar of thunder. His face looked so deathly pale. Just think. Just think…

"I don't know any Greek hymns," I whispered. Milo put his hand on my shoulder, then gasped when he saw Nico. "I don't know any Greek hymns. I don't know any Greek hymns…" I had no idea what I was saying. Dear God, I'm finally losing it.

Then- _I remembered._ I remembered something. Will at the training grounds of camp, with a carefree tone and a smile on his face, telling me about instant healing. "You know that kids of Apollo can heal by chanting Greek hymns to him, right?" I racked my brain for anything else he'd said. Did he tell me a hymn? Did I read one somewhere? "I don't know any Greek hymns…" I repeated over and over, caressing Nico's paper-white face. There's so much blood. I just start singing, I have no idea what. All I know is that it's definitely not Greek. I'm whispering it in his ear softly, noticing there's water dripping on his face that isn't rain. I realize it's "Domestic" by Somos. Nothing's in my head but the lyrics and the hope that my dad can hear it when I'm singing so softly.

I winced as I heard the snap of a bone crack back into place, but my breathing calmed. The bruise on his face receded until it disappeared completely, and the blood seemed to draw itself back in to his head. He still remained unconscious. I laughed giddily when I felt his heartbeat return to its normal pulse and smiled up at a frightened-looking and soaked Milo.

_Promise_… Someone whispered in my head, drowning out the sound of the rain and the waves. All of a sudden, I knew I was supposed to go in the water. I didn't remember anything about a promise, but I knew somehow it involved jumping overboard. Hopefully I wasn't just going crazy. I lifted Nico up unsteadily and handed him to Milo, who wrapped a limp arm around his shoulder. "You go back in!" I shouted through the downpour. "I'm supposed to jump in now!"

Milo looked at me like I was stupid. "You've lost your freaking marbles!" he shouted back, squinting against the water. "You're gonna drown in there! Or end up like one of these guys!" he nodded towards Nico. "You've… You have to come with me!"

I shook my head. "I made a promise, I think. Don't worry, I'll be back!" I smiled reassuringly. And without another moment's thought, I turned and leapt over the railing into the rolling blue hills.

Once in, my chest tightened with the realization of how stupid this was, if there was no promise. What if I'd just made that voice up? But immediately the waves calmed, the rain stopped, and the clouds parted to reveal a smiling sun. I didn't get to enjoy it long, though, because I was dragged down, down, down, to the floor of the ocean. When I didn't feel my lungs caving in from the pressure, I noticed I was encased in an air bubble protecting me from the water around me. I tensed as sharks eyed me hungrily, but my bubble cascaded past them until it reached a small, dilapidating stone building covered in tendrils of seaweed and lit by slow-moving eels slithering between columns. It was not very large, but there were plenty of rooms. I was lost by the time my bubble stopped- then again, I couldn't have paid much attention anyways because I was on the verge of a panic attack from being so far under water. I felt hyperventilation taking hold, and had to breathe deeply and slowly and curl into the fetal position to calm myself down. The water isn't touching you. You aren't drowning. Nico's fine. Everyone on the boat is fine. You're fine-

"Well well well." I risked opening one eye to see who the resounding voice had come from. Across the large room, a godly-tall woman stood in a deep blue dress and long, flowing blue hair attached to a milky-blue face. Her eyes were stormy green, her fingernails changed colours like the rising and sinking of waves, and pearls dripped from her neck and wrists. "You've kept your promise. I like that in a hero. It's rare that you find honourable men these days." She sighed wistfully and rolled her eyes.

I suddenly felt very aware that this "man" was curled in a ball and still only in his boxers. I couldn't help but shake at when my bubble moved towards her. "I… I, um…" I stuttered through my sentence as she peered at me curiously. Right now, I was about as big as her outstretched hand in which my bubble rested. "I don't… I don't actually remember a promise… But I heard you calling, so… so I came…"

She smiled with a slight tinge of amused malice, pointy teeth visible behind blue lips. "That's what's even more amazing!" she exclaimed. I winced at her loud voice. She must have seen, because she began to shrink until she was my size. We both floated to the floor, where she walked up to me with bare feet. "You don't even remember, but you came anyways. That's a new level of honour! Well, I'll remind you."

She reached through the bubble without popping it (thank heavens) and touched her thumb to my head. Instantly I was removed from my body and instead was in a temple, watching myself kneel before a huge conch, bowing in respect. "I'm afraid of you. I want you to remember me…"

Then I'm back to staring in her eyes. She grins and removes her hand. Kymopoleia.

"Yep," she said cheerfully. Dang, I'd have to be careful what I thought about from now on. "You sure do."

"…Ok, now what?" I fidgeted in my bubble, watching an eel slide by a little too close for comfort. "Are my friends ok?"

"They're already at the island. I took them just to get your attention. But I never intended to kill them." She smiled again, that slightly evil glint in her eye edging out just beneath the mask of gentleness. It kinda reminded me of Milo. "I just want to hang out with someone for a while. It gets so terribly _lonely_ down here. Father never comes to visit, and I only have the sea animals to keep me company. I thought a hero would be good for a change. All the other gods and goddesses get heroes all the time, but I've never had anyone. Just let me indulge for a while, ok?" She sighed and sat on a stone table, waving her hand to move my bubble in front of her.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, hoping the bubble would hold against the rough stone. "You know…" I don't think this would make her mad. "You're storms are pretty terrifying, to say the least. But… you yourself are really nice."

She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, a little shocked. I gulped. I guess that wasn't the right thing to say. Just as I prepared myself for the slow death of drowning and for her to go full-scale goddess-anger on me, her blue face tinged a deeper shade and she smiled with her razor-sharp teeth at me. "I've never, in all my years, had someone compliment me like that." She giggled to herself, all malice gone and replaced with genuine happiness. "It feels kind of… wonderful."

Throughout the next hour or so- I had no idea how long I was down there- as she had me braid her hair and paint her fingernails and spoke to me about the goings-on of her underwater realm, I came to realize that Kymopoleia was just a girl who missed out on growing up. She was lonely and angry and sad all the time because she couldn't make friends. She had to be the angry one, the stern one, the goddess of storms, all day every day. No one ever expected anything else of her. But while she talked to me, she seemed to grow younger. Soon she looked my age, bubbly and happy and friendly. She reminded me of Mandy, and then I felt quite homesick.

She seemed to sense it, or just got tired of me. She sighed and examined her now mauve fingernails, patting her fishtail braid happily. "This has been refreshing. I suppose now is a good time to return you to your boat. They've already reached the island, and I've delayed you enough."

I couldn't believe the words that came out of my mouth next. Even as I panicked when I accidentally pushed a finger or toe through the safety of the bubble, I asked, "Could I come visit sometime? Or you come visit me at the camp?"

She blushed again, but nodded in reply. "Hardly anyone has stood in my presence and lived to tell the tale, and yet you want to return?" She laughed. I thought how beautiful she looked with her real smile, the water rough around her and tugging her hair gently in its flow. I thought how everyone should see her like this, and she could be both feared as she wanted _and_ adored, befriended. She must have heard me think it, because she smiled even wider at me.

Suddenly she was in my personal bubble- literally- and her thin fingers held my cheek. "I know your heart isn't mine to take," she whispered, her face only centimeters from mine. "But I've never been kissed before. And you're the only one I'd want to kiss me."

So I did. It was quite cold, but also… warm somehow. It was prolonged and gentle, sincere and chaste. We pulled apart moments later and her eyes fluttered open. She revealed her pointy-toothed grin and stepped out of the bubble, waving her hand up. As my bubble floated quickly to the surface, she called out to me, "Tell Calypso I say hello!" I waved and smiled back, feeling rather glad that I'd made a promise in the first place.

Next thing I know, I'm flying. I laugh at the sensation, not noticing exactly where I was flying to. I just hoped that my shorts stayed on. Then I'm groaning in agony as I smash into the familiar deck of our small boat and the breath is knocked out of me. Without looking I can tell a rib has been broken, straight through my skin too. It hurts to breathe…

"Oh my gods!" I wince against the sunlight to see Calypso's disgusted and terrified face hovering over me. "You're alive! And hurt! What do I do? Can you hear me? Oh my gods…"

I nod, trying to stop from wriggling in pain. "Can you get some bandages and ambrosia?" I whisper in a scratchy voice. She raced back down the stairs. "And Kymopoleia says hello."

I took this time to press my hands firmly against the protruding bone, steeling myself for the following pain. Then I pushed with all my might and whined as bone scraped against bone, skin ripped, and blood drained from the wound. But I could breathe normally again. I started seeing black spots, and hoped Calypso would know what to do if I blacked out and couldn't tell her.

Luckily she came back in time to feed me some ambrosia. I grimaced at the ashy taste, but padded some bandages over the wound and wrapped them closed. "Everyone else went ahead, like five minutes ago," she explained as she helped me stand. Now I could see the boat was docked at a small wharf leading to an island. "I volunteered to wait for you. We're going to follow when you get a little better. I thought… We thought…"

I shook my head, holding my side as she supported me back to the lower deck. "She's actually pretty awesome. We had a good time hanging out."

Her jaw dropped. "Well you've been 'hanging out' with the storm goddess for about eight hours! I can't believe you didn't get yourself killed by then… By the way what are those black dots all over your back?"

I turned my head as far back as I could to look at them. Sure enough I caught a glimpse of black low on my spine. I frowned, a piece of information tugging at the back of my brain. "I can't really remember. Maybe I wrote it down in the book." I laughed a little manically, probably due to blood loss. She gave me a worried look, setting me down on the bed. Still giggling, I slid a hand through my damp hair and sighed heavily, causing my chest to ache. "I've lost a bit of blood, I guess."

She shook her head in a motherly-disapproving way with a smile on her face and shoved some more ambrosia in my mouth. "You are one strange young man."


	21. Chapter 21

"-and he always knows what to say at the right times." Every few minutes during our pursuit of the rest of the crew, I would tell myself that I'm talking _way_ too much about Joel. Calypso's ears are probably bleeding. But I couldn't help myself. Some of me thought that, even though I hadn't been showing signs of forgetting anything about Joel, talking about him would keep him in my brain.

I adjusted my bow and quiver on my shoulder, wishing I could shut my mouth and that my chest would stop aching. Calypso sighed and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I wish I had a younger brother like yours sometimes," she said, stretching her arms high. "He _is_ a little cutie though. It's no wonder the nymphs can't keep their hands off him." I felt really bad for Calypso. She's such an amazing person to have to get stuck on an island for hundreds of years. On our journey down the beach of this super long island, she told me about her father- gone all the time, anger issues, like many other heroes' stories- and her siblings. None of them sounded very great to be around. She stared at the sand with a sad smile, the disappearing sun causing her skin to shine like gold. "Sometimes I wish-"

When she didn't finish her sentence, I turned to look at her. But she was gone. I was alone on the shore. Her tracks were visible next to mine up until about 5 feet ago, like someone plucked her off the beach. "Calypso?" No answer. I didn't see anything move in the forested center. What the-

"Son of Apollo."

I whipped back around towards the beach and the voice- and then had to keep myself from gagging. A terribly angry looking satyr stood in the sand with large, pointy, cream-white horns sticking about a foot from his head. His dark eyes glared at me through knitted eyebrows, and a large golden nosering hung just over his lips. He held an insanely large mace in his right hand and a dagger in his left. Everything waist-up was fine. It was when I looked further down that I felt the blood draining from my face. Where his furry coat should be was raw, bleeding muscle contorted and twisted with his movements. His goat-half didn't have any skin.

"Do you know who I am, boy?" he asked menacingly. His voice was low and subdued, but I could feel the power and hate behind it. I just shook my head, unable to speak. My eyes tracked a gentle stream of blood trickling down his hoof. "I am the satyr Marsyas. Your father skinned me after 'winning' a biased challenge of music." To be honest, it didn't surprise me. My father, like most gods and goddesses thousands of years ago, was quite the jerk. "He stole my hide and killed me in the process. In return, I will kill you, his prized hero, in the slowest way possible."

I had no clue what part of mythology he was from. Marsyas sounded Greek though. And what's that about being his prized hero? Was I told that at some point? "I'm not really his-"

He interrupted me, almost like he was talking to himself and forgot I was there. "I will cut off your appendages one by one, followed by removing your eyes and tongue and carving off your skin. You will feel my centuries of pain tenfold."

I gulped. That didn't seem too pleasant. "I don't think it would be too much of a loss to my father," I said, knocking an arrow quickly as he began to approach me. "At least not as much as you'd like. He's never shown a special interest." My thoughts raced. The others were probably going through similar situations based on their parentage. Somehow we're each in separate… separate realities or something, which is why we can't see each other. Some sort of magic. "What did my father do with your hide once he killed you?"

My retelling of his horrible fate seemed not to be the right thing to say. He growled in frustration and raced towards me at full goat-speed. Without thought and him now about ten feet from me, I aimed at his shoulder and shot. It hit the mark, as always, but my eyes widened as I watched it bounce off harmlessly. Panic set in. My shots always went through. I gripped my bow in its fighting position and just had the time to brace before Marsyas jump-kicked his hooves into my chest.

For two or three numbing seconds, I was flying through the air. Then I felt my newly-healed ribs crack as I crashed into the trunk of a tree yards away. Pain shot through my body. He swung his mace forebodingly as he approached. Get up. You have to get up. Joel needs you with your appendages attached and your skin intact.

Black spots swarmed my vision as I braced against the tree. "The River Styx has some amazing magic," he gloated, meandering my way. He's just toying with me now. Styx. So… he's invincible, right? That's what the Styx does? Or does it put you to sleep? No, that's the Lethe… Invincibility… There's a weak spot somewhere… Form a plan. You can only try to outwit him now. "You can run if you'd like. However, I do not prefer to play with my food before eating it."

I quickly stepped away from him in the direction of the beach. Keep your eyes open. Pass out later. Defeat goat now. I put on my best despair face. "So there's no hope for me?" I muttered, walking backwards to the water. I was distracted enough to hate the feeling of sand in my shoes. Focus!

Marsyas smirked with satisfaction as he followed me, leaving a trail of blood drops in the sand behind him. "You may as well give up now. I will not make it any less painful." With this he struck out with the dagger. I jumped left, but not before he sliced deep in the side of my knee. I grimaced at the feeling of blood gushing down into my shoes, mixing with the gritty sand. Ugh, how disgusting. That feeling alone was enough to make me want to vomit.

I supported my weight with my remaining leg. At least that little lunge had put him where I needed him for my plan to work. I exaggerated my pain- which, believe me, wasn't difficult- and hobbled slowly back, bow gripped tightly in hand. He continued forward, now off-guard and believing he was in complete control. When he reached about four feet from me, I took my chance. I lunged at him with the end of my bow. Upon seeing the Imperial gold, he staggered backwards out of habit.

Once his calves reached the ocean water, my suspicion was confirmed: he roared and crumpled into the sea, screaming in pain caused by the salty water touching his bare muscle. I winced at the sound and at having to touch the waves, but pushed onward and shoved him further down with my bowstring. His head was almost fully submerged. He screamed and gasped for air and writhed in the tide all at the same time. I pushed my good knee down on his neck and knocked an arrow to my bow, gritting my teeth at the stinging from my own wound. I racked my brain for ideas, blocking out his yells and struggling to keep him under me. Where would he place his weak spot? Think about his story… Probably not on the muscle, not on the head… Definitely not the left side of his body, considering most opponents are right-handed and could intentionally or accidentally scratch it. It has to be the right side. The part of the right side of the body that's closest to his core.

I just guessed. I aimed the arrow to the right of his navel, where his arm would normally protect it. His eyes widened and he slowed his fight, and I knew I'd aimed right. "What did my father do with your hide?" I asked, this time with more force.

For a moment we just winced and panted together in that position, staring each other down. I started to get a little paranoid: he's thinking up an escape plan. He's called someone to come help him. I should just kill him now and save me a lot of trouble. As if that wasn't bad enough, my body started to shake from kneeling in the freezing water, and from the blood I was losing. But finally he was able to groan an answer to me. "He hung it by the Aulocrene Lake. However it has been moved to Lake Erie, since the change of Westernization."

That's on the way back to camp. Perfect. I felt pretty terrible for Marsyas, especially since my dad had done the damage- a little less so after he attacked me, but still. I loosened my arrow and pulled it back slowly, staring directly into his pain-filled eyes that stared right back. "I swear on the River Styx that I will return it to you," I whispered, meaning every word.

The hurt in his eyes disappeared and was replaced with a mixture of hope, excitement, awe, and disbelief. "I will hold you to your oath." I warily stood and pulled him up with me. Good thing he had some strength left, because he was a _lot_ heavier than he looked and I almost dropped him, which would've ruined the moment. This close, inches apart, he stood maybe a whole foot above my height. "Your friends are fighting their own separate battles," he said, his gaze never leaving mine. It's almost like if we stop looking at each other, my promise was never made and we'd go back to fighting. "They must be done in their own time. I can delay Nyx for a little while, but you and your company should hurry."

Just like Calypso, Marsyas disappeared into thin air. I staggered back from the cold, stinging ocean and fell into the sand. Dang, my leg hurts like Hell. My chest throbbed as well. As I took out some first aid supplies from my small pack, I glanced around, hoping to find one of the others who had already finished their "sessions". I couldn't see anyone. The black spots clouded my sight again, now accompanied by extreme lightheadedness. I had no idea what I was using to bandage the wound, and I _thought_ that was ambrosia I ate. It tasted just as bad.

I lay my head back on the beach, panting. I didn't know I was this tired. Just need to sleep. Just a nap. Just for a little while…


	22. Chapter 22

When I can think again, the first think that comes to mind is how freaking hot it is. My skin is prickling with heat and pain, my insides are contorting and aching, my head and lungs are about to explode. Every breath in is like breathing fire. It felt like someone with really long, gnarly nails was squeezing my heart as tightly as possible. So. Hot. Is the building burning? Is Joel here too?

"C'mon… Please…" Who is that? I don't know. It's too hot to tell. Why would anyone else be in this hellhole? Suddenly a very cool pressure is applied to my forehead, soothing the insane headache and heat. But I could swear that my insides were imploding. I'm panting and sweating and aching and hurting all over and only thinking about Joel, although that voice pleading with me is definitely not his. For the love of all things holy, why the Hell is it so hot? "Please wake up…"

"Hurts…" That's what I attempted to say. My throat was so dry that I sounded like a dying bird. I remembered how to open my eyes, and saw that no, I was not inside a burning building or tied to a flaming stake as I had previously theorized. I'm on a beach that looks very familiar, especially the blood drops all over it. First I notice the sound of the ocean, the blinding blue sky above. Horribly gritty sand sticks to my skin. Two black orbs are centimeters from my own eyes. They're Nico's- I can tell immediately without even seeing the rest of his face. His stare was so intense. I imagined he saw candy in the back of my head, and was trying to figure out how to get it without killing me in the process. Then it's too painful to think and I curl into the fetal position, squirming around to make it comfortable for my churning insides. "So bad… Hurts a lot…" I look back and see his eyes like it's the first time. Wow. I never realized how dark they are. All black. Kinda angelic, in a twisted, roundabout way. I reached my hand up without thinking, grimacing at the pain, and brushed over his temple. "Your eyes are really pretty."

He rolled them at me, but flashed me a toothy grin. How can he smile when it's so hot? "Thanks, babe. You're so stupid sometimes. And also your atoms are being ripped apart." He frowned at that part. "I gave you ambrosia. It wasn't that much… Did you have some already?"

It was my turn to frown. Did I? What happened? Everything's so fuzzy. "I don't know. Where's Calypsa?"

"I think it's Calypso-"

"Ok, but she was here, right? Then there was a goat-man with a really… really scary hammer. Where are we?" I struggled to sit up, but had to quickly lay back down before I screamed and made Nico deaf. "Oh gods, oh gods, dear Zeus…" Heat and pain and just someone kill me please this is so not worth it, what is going on-

"I got finished… confronting someone about half an hour ago," Nico began as he pushed me back down by my shoulders. It was only then that I realized I was back to being in my boxers again, as was he. I paled when I saw two of my ribs poking against my skin in a sickeningly unnatural manner. Bandages wrapped around my knee, both elbows, and my upper thigh. Sweat pooled on my stomach like a lake. "You were just about to drift out to sea when I saw you, and you were bleeding all over the place. Then I fed you some ambrosia, and you couldn't breathe and you were turning red and I thought you were dying, basically." He shifted uncomfortably, like he was about to do something he didn't like. "I think we should put you in the water to cool you down. Otherwise your atoms move too fast and start to dissipate."

I didn't say anything. Too hot and there was no arguing with him. But I did wince and groan and almost pass out while he slid an arm under my back and behind my knees to lift me. "Holy Hades," he muttered as he stood under my weight. I could hear the joke in his voice, but I couldn't react. I was frozen in place, clutching around his neck and hoping to whatever could help me that my body would either please, _please_ cool down or just stop existing already. Anything to get rid of this pain.

Then I saw through squinted eyes that Nico's feet were already sloshing through the water, and I took it back. "Nico, I don't think it's a good idea…" My voice was broken and shaky, and not extremely convincing. The deeper we got, the more I tensed and lifted as far away from the water as I could. I think the problem is not being able to see parts of my body. It's like those parts are in some way completely separated from me, and I have no control over what happens to them. My body shook involuntarily, I'm assuming from the atom-ripping thing, and sweat dripped down my hairline. "Can we try something else-"

"I'm gonna stay here too." His voice is so close to my ear. Just don't look. Just don't look and everything will be fine. I stared over his shoulder like there was gold back on the island. Breathe. Everything's fine. I felt the water slide over my feet and my body went into hyperventilate mode. "You're gonna feel better in a minute. You're not gonna drown."

I did feel better almost immediately. The feeling took my mind off the ocean for a second. I sighed at the cold, my muscles relaxing, my headache disappearing in an instant. My forehead rested on Nico's shoulder in uneasy contentment, but the relief was unexplainably euphoric. My panting turned to slow, calm breaths, and Nico blew cool air across my shoulder.

"…Can we go back now? Please?" The tied-to-a-flaming-stake sensation had subsided greatly, and I could feel the ribs slowly and quite painfully healing back into place. Let's just get me back to that stupid sand again.

"Hold your breath."

The experience was apparently traumatizing enough that my brain has blocked it out. But I'm told that we ducked under the water for a few moments. All I remember is heading back to the island as I sputtered and shivered and internalized everything that just happened.

We made it back in silence. He set me down on his pants instead of the sand, reaching for his shirt. I didn't look at him as he dried me off with his clothes. Did I hate him? Did I want to yell at him? What am I supposed to feel right now? Because I just felt numb.

Milo's here all of a sudden, exchanging stories with Nico. They're just staring at me a little worriedly. I get up, slide my clothes on, and quickly jot down in my notebook the past few hours, beginning with Kymopoleia. As I finished writing, the communication thingy started to ring in the depths of my bag. I fumble for it with numb fingers and a tight smile on my face, ignoring the previous traumatizing happenings. Joel's still in my room, but this time Quintenn is sitting behind him, unseen. "Hey, little man," I start. But the solemn look on Quintenn's face makes me a little worried. Joel also doesn't seem too happy. "Is everything OK?"

"Mommy called."

My smile froze. There was nothing to say, it had been so unexpected. What does she want? Why would she contact us? "She wanted to talk to you and Daddy," he answered my unasked question glumly. "Daddy says we have a baby sister. A half-sister."

My only emotion in response to that was anger towards Garrett: why did he tell Joel all this? He's just a kid. He shouldn't be hearing this stuff. "… Does she want us to meet her?"

He shrugged. Behind him, Quintenn nodded. I sighed and ran a hand through my damp hair. "Don't do anything until I'm there. I'll be back very soon, OK?"

He nodded.

We sat there silently a few seconds more before the call ended. I angrily shoved the device back in the bag, unsure what exactly I was upset about. Probably just that Joel has to deal with this much at such a young age. This isn't fair to him. Why couldn't she just keep to herself? Why did she have to inflict more damage than she already had?

Milo and Nico began gathering their things. "We should probably search the island," Milo said, haisting his bag onto his shoulder. "We'll either find the others or make progress in the quest."

So we headed into the jungle-like forest single-file with me at the back and Milo up front. The only good thing about the trek was the blissful shield from the hot sun. Other than that, there were snakes, tangled vines (that Milo kept constantly knotting himself into), insects, tough terrain… I almost missed the sandy beach.

Ten minutes later, Nico broke the silence. "It's getting darker."

Until then I hadn't noticed. But the difference in shades between the shadows and the light was lessening significantly. A thick black fog had descended over absolutely everything, getting thicker by the second. Nico was barely visible three feet from me.

Then he was gone.

"Nico?" It was so sudden that I jumped. The fog trapped my voice around me, stilling any possible reverberation. I could no longer see my hands in front of my face. Not wanting to be completely defenseless, I yanked an arrow onto my bow with familiar readiness. I had to rely only on my hearing, because not it was black as night.

Ï blinked.

_Night._

_Nyx._ That's what the skinless satyr said, right?

"You finally got it."

My head whirled toward the sound. The dark subsided just enough to reveal the speaker. Luckily I first saw his hoodie and hair because I then _remembered_ not to look into his eyes. "Timor?" I asked more than stated- my memory wasn't coming back that well. But I associated his apparel with the horrible vision of Joel that- no matter how many accidents- I would never erase from my mind.

"Yes, yes, that's already been established." He sounded quite calm, and though I hate to admit it, his voice had an incredibly soothing effect on me. I watched his converse as he moved without purpose across the tree roots to close the gap between us. "It took you long enough to guess Nyx, though. And she's only half of the threat."

"What's the point of controlling this island?" I genuinely wanted to know. "What good will that do anybody?"

His laugh chased chills through me. "Ah, what _else_ don't you understand yet? Your good friend, the Son of Hades, should know by now. This island is a gateway to the Underworld. A shortcut directly to the dead. This is why it is made so difficult to find. In fact, Nyx stumbled upon it by accident on the other side. But it took years to find the gate on the side of the living. Now she will be able to let Erebus out of his prison in Hell. He- AH! You…"

I just shot an arrow in the direction of his chest, making sure not to look up too high. "Sorry," I said with some honest sincerity. "You were taking too long, and I'll never remember all that anyways. You said Nico knows it, so I'll just ask him later."

He breathed heavily, clutching at his shoulder, I think. A gold shimmer suggested that I'd at least hit _something_. I pulled another arrow, but keeled over in pain when a dagger flew almost completely through my left side. "You remember the lovely vision I showed you?" The malice in his voice filled my gut with dread. "It would be a shame if-"

He was interrupted when Milo sliced across the back of his legs from the darkness. The god fell forward under the attack, shot me a knowing smirk, and disappeared. My heart raced at the thought of where he might be going.

"Ah!" The breath was knocked out of me as someone barreled into the darkness. "Calypso?"

"Oh, thank the gods!" she exclaimed. She clung to my hand with a vice grip and pulled me up. My side burned and I let out a mangled scream as I wrenched the knife out of my skin. "Nico!" she yelled. I could no longer see anything, but I heard much labored breathing. Someone grabbed my free hand, and I knew it was Nico right away. "Is everyone attached?" called Annabeth. We all answered.

"Now what?" Milo asked from somewhere to my left.

"Now you choke on the dark!" a silky smooth voice replied. It came from everywhere at once. From ten feet in front of us rose a pitch-black figure even darker than the surrounding black. A pair of dark eyes glittered, attached to a body with huge black, feathery wings just blankets of darkness.

"Nice of you to finally stop by," the feathered goddess said, twisting around us in some sort of shadowed dance. Her chuckle was so malicious. I felt Nico's hand tighten around mine, removing me from my terrified thoughts about Joel. "Brace yourself," he whispered super close to my ear. Brace myself for what?

The stomach-wrenching feeling of shadow-travelling, though only experienced 1 other time, was immediately recognizable. Everything lightens to an ashy grey for a few tumultuous seconds during which Calypso is screaming, Milo is cussing, and Nyx is whirling about in confusion. Then we are all in an extremely shiny, extremely hot, and extremely bright car, possibly a Jaguar. This car, I notice, is flying through the sky and looks to be driven by a (now very surprised) 15 year old.

"AAAAHHHHGGHSDKJGHGFKJDH-" Nyx screamed and wailed as she disintegrated into light particles beaming blindingly from the surface of the Jaguar. Even with the initial threat gone, the car is still spinning out of control in the clouds, and all 6 passengers are screaming- excluding myself: I was too busy vomiting over the side, careful not to get it on the car. Annabeth and Calypso are squished into the the right side, and Nico and Milo are basically sitting in each other's' laps, yelling at the top of their lungs. It is at this point that I realize the magic car is heading at the speed of light towards the surface of the earth.


	23. Chapter 23

"Look what you've done to my son!"

I could barely lift my head to see who the heck was making all that noise. Apollo speed-walked in my direction, stopping a few times to wave his hands in distress and stutter and heal any wounded with a touch and then keep rushing about. The sky was noticeably darker, and in the lake behind us bubbled and steamed the golden Jaguar. I was so weak, drained from whatever Nico had done when he shadow travelled. It's like he sapped all my strength instead of his. A few feet in front of me, Annabeth lay still on the mix of grass and sand. I crawled my way over to her, grimacing at the pain in my side. Just as I reached her, Apollo stooped to touch her forehead. "Just a concussion," he said, before he none too gently flipped me onto my back and poked some fingers into my wound. I gasped and almost punched my godly father in the face when I felt a finger probe what I'm pretty sure was my liver. Grey spots filled my vision, and I'm ashamed to say that I made some sort of mewling noise.

"Stop it!" Nico raced over to us closely followed by Calypso, but a flick of Apollo's hand kept them a good five feet from us. Anyways the wound had gone completely numb. My headache disappeared and my vision cleared. Apollo glared back at Nico like he was a bad taste in his mouth. "There was poison on that knife, you petulant brat! I know what I'm doing!" All I thought about was how weird it is to look up at your dad who's the same age as you.

In seconds my skin sealed itself, though my shirt still gaped open. Annabeth was back on her feet and smiling like she was high. Milo caressed a broken forearm, but Apollo tapped his shoulder and it clicked into place. He pulled me up quickly and then gestured to the boiling lake. "And my other sun! You… You… AGH! Now I have to drive that old chariot until Hephaestus fixes this mess you've made of my sports car. He just finished installing the new heated seats too! I'm gonna have to wait _months_ before it's fixed! Damn you, son of Hades…"

Nico's usual rebellious glare was now clearly masking a little bit of uncertainty and fear. "Actually, I can't be damned-"

Apollo interrupted him with a stare full of malice. The rest of the group, including myself, stood in uncomfortable silence. "Father… thank you for-"

I stopped when the same stare became directed at me. Behind his youthful features, the curled golden hair and electric blue eyes, I realized, the anger of a god couldn't be hidden. Such anger suited him, in a strange way. Then his face softened and he sighed, looking back out at where his prized car would be at the bottom of the lake, then between myself and Nico. "We'll continue our previous conversation later," he said to Nico, who's face reddened. Then Apollo disappeared, and in his place good ol' Bernard plonked hard into the ground with a loud _honk_. I have to say, I missed the Jaguar at that point.

On a nearby tree, isolated on its own island a few feet from shore, hung a bloody and dripping goatskin. This must be Lake Erie, I guess. Perfect timing. I jumped over the water, grabbed the thing, and jumped back, racing for the van. Why am I in a hurry again? Something happened… Something important and bad was happening, and I'm forgetting about it. Joel! That's right. Timor and Joel. "We have to get back!" I hopped into the van as quickly as possible, barely waiting for anyone before slamming on the gas and speeding away towards home, following Annabeth's frantic directions. I just prayed to God I made it in time.

I'd dropped everyone off at camp with the satyr hide before coming home, ignoring their conncerned questions. There was just no time to answer.

I made it back to the house in record time. Forgot to lock the car on my way up. The stairs were the same. The door remained unchanged. Nothing seemed out of order. I took a deep breath, slid in the key, and pushed the door open.

The inside was a different story.

The new couch was ripped open. Feathers and papers lay strewn about the whole living room. My stomach dropped when I saw the enormous puddle of drying blood soaking into the carpet. Garrett's body was laying completely motionless against the wall, as though someone had thrown him there. He wasn't breathing. I flew up the stairs to my room, the door already ajar. Inside was a mess, with books thrown from the shelf and my bed upturned. In the center of the room, struggling to breath, lay the new dog, whose name I couldn't remember. Her throat was cut and bloody. Otherwise, there was no blood in the whole room. Without a second thought, I knelt by her, quickly put her out of her misery, and searched the rest of the house. Where was Joel? Where was Quintenn?

Back in the living room, I noticed that on the front door a bloody "T" was carved into the wood. At that moment the panic set in. I immediately knew it was put there to quell any doubt.

He was gone.

It had been three days since I got back. Three days since he… left. That's what I have to call it now, just so that I can keep functioning. I'm not sure it's working. Quintenn hasn't shown up, so I'm assuming he died trying to protect him, as the contract stated he should. And Garrett… He was now buried in the nearby cemetery.

I stayed at a secluded area of Calvert County beach. Joel liked to come here a lot. The sunset was nice, especially from the cliff. I didn't like the cliff though, because it was a relatively popular tourist spot, and now the sunset was just this bittersweet reminder of everything that happened. I hated its beauty with a gut-wrenching passion. But Joel liked the view. So here I stood, probably in the way of everyone's perfect sunset instagram photo, or too tall for the vacationing grandparents, and I just hated being there. Or existing at all, really. I thought that if Joel were with me, he'd be on my shoulders, rattling on about how beautiful the colours are and how they mesh with the water. I missed his chubby fingers pulling on my hair, and his contagious smile, and his hugs. My heart ached when I thought of him. It was physically pushing against my chest, trying to eject itself to wherever he was.

What happened next took a second, but felt like an hour. Someone pushed me just a little too roughly, and I didn't catch myself in time. Or rather, I didn't bother to catch myself. I tumbled over the side, falling and falling and rocks getting closer and closer. Nothing really crossed my mind. I was blissfully at peace, because the only thought I had time to think was that I'm going to see Joel again.

I didn't really realize that I was killing myself. I'd tried to keep those thoughts out of my head the past few days. Sometimes it had come very, very close. Yesterday I was in a public bathroom stall, a bottle of Garrett's anti-depressant pills open in my hand and about 20 pills poured into the other. The lack of will to live was incredibly intense. But even if I killed myself, I wouldn't see him. We would be in opposite places of Hell. But this- this was not my fault. I could die knowing I would see my little brother again.

Suddenly I'm slowing down. The wind is slightly less harsh against my face. Long black hair whips around wildly, tangling in my own. Quintenn has his freezing pale arms around my waist and is pulling me up against gravity. "He's not dead! He's not dead!"

That one sentence brought me back to reality. I flailed around for something to stop the fall, probably accidentally hitting Quintenn in the face. The rocks are only yards away now. "Stop!" I'm just yelling and scrambling and Quintenn is pulling as hard as he can, so much so that my chest hurts from his force, but I'm not slowing down enough. "Quintenn!"

I heard him grunt with effort. "I'm trying!"

Everything goes dark.


	24. Chapter 24

Our landing in the dark was not as hard as I had imagined. The worst part was Quintenn landing on _me_. At first I thought my lungs had burst or something, because I couldn't breathe properly. But he coughed pretty loud in my ear, and I knew it was him crushing me. "Quintenn…" There was so little air in my lungs that I couldn't even finish my sentence. I totally forgot about it in a second though. I was too focused on the strange feeling of _knowing_ that I'm blinking, but the black colour completely surrounding me never changes and now I don't know if I'm blinking or not-

"Ugh…" Quintenn groaned right into my ear again. I felt him roll off of me to my left somewhere. "We're in the Underworld. I can feel it. Something brought us here." His voice is so close. Then his arm is feeling around for me, grabbing at my leg, then my back and stomach. Despite the near-death experience, I could help but laugh at the unexpected touch. His hand jerked back, and instead reached for my arm to help me up. "Sorry. I didn't take us here. I can't shadow travel with humans too often, and I already used it on your brother a few days ago. Who would-"

"Usually I don't extract intruders myself." At the sound of the new voice, Quintenn's hand tightened around my wrist and his breath in my ear became short. "But my son has told me quite a bit about you. I guess someone who means so much to someone relatively important to me is not an intruder." A blue fire suddenly perched itself on a crevice in the wall, illuminating the rocky tunnel we stood in. At the outskirts of the ring of light stood a tall, dark figure with flaming red eyes and a stare as cold as ice.

Quintenn yanked me down to the ground, telling me silently with his eyes to kneel like he was currently doing. "He's the Roman version," he whispered worriedly as I knelt next to him. Was that supposed to mean something to me? Roman version of what?

As I looked back at the dark-haired man, I immediately knew he was Nico's father, because for a second I thought it _was_ Nico. It startled me how much his eyes resembled Nico's. Then he smirked, and the resemblance faded, throwing me off a little bit. "Yes, he did tell me you were a bit… _slow_, due to an injury. I don't know why he would maintain interest in someone like you. But that is not my concern. I have come to give you a wedding gift."

My mind blanked. Wedding? Whose wedding? I looked over at Quintenn, my eyes wide and confused. He stared back at me, mouth slightly open. "Oh, I suppose my son hasn't had a chance to tell you yet, what with you disappearing for a near week and now passing into the Underworld." My eyes found Pluto's again. He shrugged. "Oh well. Act surprised for me when he does, will you? Anyways, your wedding gift is that I have arranged for your friend to be cured of his illness. By arranged, I mean I had Apollo cure him. Apollo believed it was cheating for him to essentially give you a gift with my name on it. But I traded him well for it, and he soon quit his complaining. I figured it might be more reasonable to cure your friend now instead of bringing him back to life after he was dead, which is the only thing I personally can do. That may have had a greater effect you and therefore been more meaningful that way. But it would take too long. Your friend was scheduled to die in six months, which would most likely have been _much_ farther past the date of the wedding than I would appreciate-"

I was still processing the first "wedding". Quintenn shook me lightly by the arm, probably checking to see I hadn't gone into a vegetative state from the shock. After careful consideration of my words, I decided to gently interrupt him. "My Lord Pluto," I stuttered, keeping my head bowed. "What friend of mine had an illness?" Why was that my first question? What about the wedding business?

He began to slowly pace the width of the cave, his hair a light blue from the torch. But he seemed rather pleased about something. "'Lord', eh? What a polite son-in-law I have acquired. Anyways, I believe his name is Jacob. Or Jake," he said with a roll of his eyes when I didn't understand. "Zeus, Nico didn't tell me you were _this_ dim. Jake had cancer of the cerebral system. He has, however, made a miraculous recovery as of five minutes ago, and Apollo has a brand new diamond flute to prove it. Nico also failed to tell me that you have a Strigoi as your protector."

Here Quintenn flinched and stared intently at the floor. Pluto glanced at him as he paced by, the slight disgust evident on his face. "I have prepared a hellhound for you instead. He will meet you after you have left the Underworld. I can have this removed."

"My Lord!" I quickly held Quintenn's hand just before Pluto snapped his fingers, probably to send Quintenn to oblivion. Quintenn was shaking next to me. "Thank you for your very generous offer, which I gladly accept. But, I have one more request for my… wedding gift." Gosh, that felt strange to say. "Quintenn has of his own will, for the most part, protected me for many years." I couldn't remember how many. Screw my stupid injury. "I wondered if he might be able to live on the Isle of Paradise. And maybe stop being a Strigoi, if he wants."

Quintenn stopped moving. I looked over to him and was surprised to see him already staring at me, a tear sliding down his nose. Is that happy-crying? He _wants_ to go to Paradise, right? Did I do the right thing? I guess I should've asked first…

Pluto glanced between the two of us, his hand still up in the air. Then he completed his snap, and Quintenn disappeared. Just as suddenly as he arrived into my life, he was gone. I felt kind of… sad. And the more I thought about it, the sadder I became. "Your wish has been granted. Now, in regards to your younger brother-" this is where my brain began to follow along- "you have to retrieve him the old-fashioned way, I'm afraid. I've also decided to give you a diamond flute as well. That stuff is quite useless to me. Travel down this tunnel and you will come to a large opening filled by a lake. In the center of the lake is the Isle Puerorum, where your brother is currently staying. I'll see you soon, and more often, I suppose."

With no fervor, no puff of smoke, he was suddenly gone and replaced by a glittering flute resting on the rock floor. The fire also died out, but the flute gleamed against the walls with plenty of light. I didn't move for a few minutes, just sat there thinking about everything that had just happened. Quintenn was gone. That was the biggest deal right now. I hope that he was happy. I hope I made the right decision. Jake is better. That's good. I didn't even know he had cancer. I wonder if he knew. I wonder if Mandy knew. And Nico wants to marry me? I have no idea why. I'm not that great. I'm also a lot of work now, after that car crash. And I have Joel.

I stood and reached for the flute in the near-darkness, sighing heavily. Everything will be figured out when I get Joel back.

Within a few minutes of walking carefully through the jagged tunnels, I saw a pale blue light ahead. Around the corner opened a very sudden wide cavern stretching so high above me that I couldn't see the ceiling. A deep lake started at the very opening of the cave, and out in the middle, about a hundred yards away, was an enormous jungled island. A few torches here and there illuminated what I could see of it. Children between the ages of 0 and 12 were scattered about the surface, playing or singing or staring sadly out across the lake into the darkness. Though it was difficult for me to see from that distance, I thought they all had completely black eyes. No irises, only pupil.

Except for one blond-haired, blue-eyed child who sat by himself on the sandy shore, picking at his little pants and glancing back at the fun like he wished he could join in. Seeing him again almost had me bursting into tears. His red, flushed skin compared to their pale, milky-white bodies made me so incredibly happy. Ok. Time to try out this flute. Hopefully he can hear me from here.

I lifted the flute (finding it surprisingly heavy) focused completely on him, and blew my first note.

The voices immediately died down. Everyone's head whipped around to look at me, including Joel. I stared only at him, though. His eyes lit up and he smiled. My first note died, and I turned around towards the tunnel to walk as I continued playing. Immediately I heard tiny footsteps following behind me. Unlike the story, there was no urge to turn around. I just wanted us to be out of there, as fast as possible.

We wove through the darkness for about five minutes, which I'm glad for because I was beginning to realize I had no idea where the exit was. But soon enough I had reached an opening that overlooked an ocean, foaming and splashing near the mouth of the cave. The sun was long gone, replaced by stars and a crescent moon. Warm air washed over me, welcoming me back to the land of the living. I stopped playing, almost too afraid to turn around. But when I did, Joel lay asleep on the rock floor, breathing slowly and steadily. I stared at him a long time before I got the courage to kneel by him and touch him. Then I was pulling him into me, smelling him and feeling his hair and hugging him and sniffling. Memories bombarded my head, of me holding him like this early in the morning, when he can't sleep until I get home from work. He waits up all night for me, half-asleep when I get there. God, I love him.

When I turned back around, I noticed for the first time Nico sitting on a small rock in the dark by the cave. He was staring at me, and in the dark it was hard to tell, but I thought I saw tear stains on his cheeks. At first he was shocked. Then his face held such rage that I actually felt afraid for my life. He approached me without saying a word. The closer he got, the more my panic attack took hold. When he was close enough, he grabbed me around the waist and, with no warning, shadow travelled.

After those few sickening seconds of black-and-white and spinning and almost vomiting, we landed on solid earth and soft grass. He let me go as I dropped to the ground, catching my breath and calming my headache. I noticed for the first time through all that had happened that day how utterly exhausted I was. Joel was still asleep. I recognized we were in the backyard to the new house. "I cleaned it," Nico said, seemingly reading my thoughts as he walked ahead of me and opened the door. I followed in, warily glancing at him as I passed. But he didn't touch me. The inside was nothing like what I last saw. No blood, no upturned sofa, books all in their original places. All clean. I lay Joel down on the couch, covering him with a spare blanket, before turning around to see Nico still standing by the open door. The look in his eyes told me to follow him out into the yard again. I did. He closed the door behind us. I faced him, my eyes boring holes into the grass. He stood directly in front of me, still looking incredibly angry. I knew what was coming.

"I felt your soul pass into Hell." He broke the silence quietly. I braced myself.

The first hit was hard and piercing, a slap across my face. I staggered backwards at the force, but steadied myself and stood in front of him again. My eyes still didn't meet his, and I didn't raise my hands to block any further hits. His first seemed to break the dam, and he struck out again with more force. I barely had time to recover before he punched me again, this time in the stomach. Soon we were on the ground, him sitting on top of me and me closing my eyes, just trying to get through it. My nose cracked at one point, and through it all I felt blood leak out. "I thought you were dead!" he yelled at me between punches. "I thought you were dead! I thought…"

He ceased fire. We were both panting and I opened my eyes when I felt water on my cheeks. Nico's face was wrapped in a halo of his black hair, then the stars, and his eyes were dark and watery. I couldn't help but think that every time I saw him from this angle, which happened more often than you'd think, it was like seeing him for the first time all over again. I reached up a hand to wipe his eyes. "You always-"

I didn't get to tell him how beautiful he was. He leaned in and kissed me. It was desperate and sloppy, wet and salty with his tears and sticky and sweet with my blood. I don't know how long we lay there like that, his lips moving mine in a rhythm I didn't understand. The breathlessness and the pain and the metallic smell and the night made everything a little euphoric and timeless.

Finally he pulled back, his crying reduced to sniffles now, and lay his head on my bruising chest. "I thought you were dead," he whispered.

I ran a hand through his hair, much like I would Joel's. "I know."


	25. Chapter 25

The day was going beautifully. Joel woke before Nico and myself and burst into tears when he saw my bruised and discolored body lying next to him. Nico bolted awake from the floor, scrambling around to see what was wrong, and I yanked Milo's knife from my pocket before I was even fully awake. Eventually I convinced him I wasn't dying and Nico looked guilty as Hell. He stared at my face over Joel's shoulder as I hugged him, eyes wide as they travelled down my temple, and then he looked away in shame. I was kind of surprised they hadn't disappeared yet. Bruises usually heal within hours for a son of Apollo, but today I ached all over.

Nico told me to pack. I didn't ask questions, because anywhere was better than this house, full of bloody and unpleasant memories. When he said it, it was with a sort of definitiveness in his eyes that ordered me not to argue. He seemed pleased with the relief evident on my face, like we'd avoided a touchy subject. So he made Joel some eggs in the kitchen while I stayed upstairs to pack my old suitcase and a duffel bag. The duffel bag was reserved for books, and was full to the brim in minutes. I made sure to pack my notebook and flutes, as well as my few art supplies and the stash of emergency money tucked under my matress. Then the suitcase was dedicated to Joel's clothes and several stuffed animals, leaving room for only a pair of my jeans and some t-shirts. I then carried them down the stairs toward the door, smiling when I heard Joel interrogating a slightly uncomfortable Nico- and then froze when I heard a very different sound. A baby crying? I opened the front door and peeked through the crack.

On the small cement porch in front of the door lay a writhing bundle of blankets making quite a lot of noise. I opened the glass door and quickly knelt to pick up what I correctly assumed to be a baby, my motherly instinct kicking in. Its red face was squished into a very unhappy frown with tearstains frozen in long streaks. A small note hung pinned from the edge of the blanket, with nothing written but "Daughter of Hypnos. -Claire."

Claire never referred to herself as my mother. She got mad whenever I addressed her at all, but especially when it wasn't by her first name. I surprisingly didn't feel very upset. It was too cold and I was too exhausted and in pain to be angry. I wrapped the blanket a little tighter and cooed softly down at her, and she immediately quieted to look up at me through watery eyes. My stomach dropped for a minute as I wondered if this would change Nico's mind about helping us. I mean, with Joel it was already enough trouble. But now a _baby_...

I walked back into the house and shut the door behind me. Nico glanced at me from the barstool and his eyes widened, causing Joel to turn and see what had caught his attention. "Joel…" I couldn't resist snuggling her closer as I revealed what was hidden beneath the folds of blue and white. "This is our new baby sister."

He looked down at her in awe, touching her forehead lightly. "Where did she come from?" Nico saw the note and his brow furrowed in confusion.

I skipped over his question and handed her gently to him instead. "What should we name her?"

He looked down lovingly at her, watching as she squirmed and reached for his hair. I rummaged through the fridge to find some milk. When I turned around, I was met with an unexpectedly adorable scene: Nico, with his mouth slightly open, caressed the baby's tiny head, which Joel raised for easier access. "What about Elena?"

I nodded, and Nico hummed in appreciation. "Sounds good to me," Nico said, twisting his fingers in her thin blonde hair. He glanced up at me in concern. "You aren't mad?"

I shook my head, pouring the milk into one of Joel's old sippy cups. "I can't be when she's so cute… Are you?"

He laughed, as if the thought were absurd, and shook his head as well. And that was the end of it.

After Elena was fed some warm milk and soon sound asleep, we gathered around the suitcase. Elena was curled in my arms, Joel hugged my leg and the luggage, and Nico wrapped a solid arm around my waist. I somewhat enjoyed the warmth and close proximity, but I soon was coughing and gagging at the sensation of shadow-travelling. We landed in the Apollo cabin that was thankfully empty, because I pretty much collapsed on the ground. My brain pounded in my skull.

"Is this where we're staying?" I asked when I stopped panting.

He shook his head and took Elena from me. "No, but people were worried about you. I didn't tell them when I thought you were dead, but they thought you were in trouble after disappearing for three days."

As if on cue, Will walked through the door. He froze when he saw us, but almost immediately smiled and speed-walked to me concernedly. "People have been looking for you everywhere! What the heck happened to you? Milo's been worried sick. He might honestly kill you…"

He pulled me out of the cabin into the light, which my eyes had to adjust to for a long few moments. By the time I was able to see again, I was promptly knocked to the ground, causing so much pain to my sore bruises. I groaned and winced, squinting to make out my captor, who I discovered to be a very angry Swede. "I would pummel you to death if someone hadn't beat me to it… Zeus, you look awful!"

I half-heartedly pushed his face away, grimacing at the bright sun. "Dude, get off me, I'm in so much pain right now…"

He helped me up just in time for Annabeth and her boyfriend (whose name escaped me at the time, but luckily I never had to say it) to interrogate me. I explained as best I could, but the more I spoke the more tired I became. Everything was happening so fast.

Milo introduced me to a girl. "Leslie. Daughter of Aphrodite," she said as she shook my hand. The way he sheepishly ran a hand through his hair and snuck quick looks at her gave it all away. The way he brought her to me like I was his father, searching for my approval. She _was_ very beautiful. Short brown hair touched her tanned shoulders, dark blue eyes glanced up at me, and a large smile took up most of her face. She looked like the type of person who laughed a lot.

"It's very nice to meet you," I answered, playfully winking at Milo who rolled his eyes at me. I lifted up a fussy Joel who had previously been at Nico's side. "I think we're going to head out now. Joel's getting a little tired." As if to prove my point, Joel yawned into my shoulder and rubbed his eyes with his little hands. It was getting dark anyways. After being hugged rather tightly by Milo and slapped on the back by Annabeth's boyfriend and had my bruises looked at by Will (who couldn't seem to miraculously cure them like before), I endured shadow-travelling yet again- though I did dry-heave into the grass as soon as it was over. Nico rubbed my back soothingly, and Joel placed a hand sadly on my cheek until I stopped.

When I stood shakily, I saw we were standing in front of a modestly beautiful cabin a few yards from a lake. Across the lake I could see the glint of swords in the practice arena of camp, and Kymopoleia's temple by the sand. This side of the lake was heavily forested, blocking the dying light. "My dad had this cabin built a couple years ago. He hasn't used it though."

I followed him cautiously up the stairs and through the front door, setting down the duffel bag. Joel clung to my leg for a moment, but soon gathered the courage to explore a little. To the right is a living room, to the left a dining room and kitchen area, and separating the two was a stairway leading to the second level. Nico gently handed me Elena, who was still fast asleep, and took my bag and the suitcase up the stairs. "We'll have to get some baby stuff until she can live in her cabin," he called as he disappeared into the hallway. "Come up and I'll show you your guys' rooms."

I slipped my hand through Joel's and followed after Nico, admiring the incredible paintings lining the walls of various Greek and Roman stories. He stopped at the second door, which looked to be a guest bedroom. "The kids can sleep here. There are two single beds and plenty of room, and it leads to the bathroom there."

The way he said it sounded like they were _our_ kids.

The two beds were placed on opposite walls, in between which sat a cherry-wood dresser under the window holding the only lamp in the room. I changed a sleepy Joel into his PJ's as Nico changed Elena's diaper. I'm surprised he A. knew how to do it, and B. didn't complain. Most guys our age would have protested and called it woman's work. Joel climbed into the bed on the left tiredly, rubbing his eyes while I tucked him in and kissed his forehead. The beds were large enough that I could trust Elena not to roll off, so I tucked her in and kissed her forehead as I did Joel's.

We crept out of the room, me with the duffel bag and some sleep clothes to change into. Nico reached to take the bag from me. "I can put this in your room while you change," he offered. I shrugged it off my shoulder and handed it over. "The bathroom is that first door along the hall."

Once in the bathroom with the door securely locked, I worked off my clothes, breathing deeply as they tugged against my bruises. The tile was refreshingly cool against my feet. When I looked into the mirror, I jumped at my reflection. There was hardly any unblemished skin left on my body. No wonder Joel was so scared this morning.

I left the bathroom in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, ripped in certain places from years of use. Too tired now, but remember to ask Nico about what his father said about a wedding. Also, isn't there supposed to be a hellhound around here somewhere as my "wedding gift"? Just figure it out tomorrow, I thought as I yawned. I glanced into the only open doorway to see my duffel bag perched on the end of the bed. I entered and, despite my exhaustion, decided to write the past few days' events in the book. I searched the bag for the green journal, getting a little worried when I couldn't immediately find it. I pulled all the books out, and still no journal. Did I leave it at the townhouse? I thought I packed it-

"You haven't written about me."

I whipped around to face the doorway. Nico stood with the journal in his hand, staring at me solemnly and a little bit guiltily as he glanced at the book. "There's nothing about me in it. Do you… Am I not… important?"

…How could he think that? I pulled at my pants, picking at a small hole nervously as I thought of how to explain it to him. "Who _did_ I write about? Whose names _did_ you see?"

His brow twisted in confusion. "Calypso. Leo- who, by the way, you named Theo. Percy. Annabeth. Will. Kymopoleia. Diyonisus. Chiron. And… Milo." He looked hurt when he said his name.

I nodded. "And whose names _don't_ you see?"

He looked down at the journal. "Um…"

I took a few steps closer to him, biting the inside of my cheek. I've never been this forward with someone. "You don't see yours. And you don't see Joel's. I don't write about you both because I don't have to. I remember everything that I previously knew about you."

My hands were gripping my shirt with a strength I didn't know I had, and my eyes were trained on my toes digging into the carpet. It's very warm all of a sudden. And very silent. His next words shattered through the atmosphere. "I love you."

My breath hitched in my throat. I couldn't lift my gaze from the floor. "I don't love you for your personality, although it's amazing and intelligent. I don't love you for your body, although it's not lacking in any way. I don't love you for the way you make me feel. I love you for your thoughts. For your actions."

After a moment, I heard him move, saw his feet in front of mine. He kissed me. It wasn't desperate, like the last time. It was soft and chaste, but allowed me the same level of euphoria. I could only hum in pleasure, lean in to further a nuzzle. Then he pulled away.

"Do you want… Do you want to sleep with me?"

The look he was giving me had me suddenly very shy. It was a mixture of happiness and joy and solemnity and lust that I have never seen directed towards me before. Heavy-lidded and animalistic. I glanced away, inadvertently attempting to hide my reddening face. My body was electrocuted with his touch to my hand, gently wrapping his fingers loosely around my wrist. I let him pull me through the doorway, down the hall, to the last door. He shut it behind us, sealing us in a room of dark wallpaper and black flooring. I felt the urge to tell him what I hadn't been able to yesterday night. "You interrupted me last night," I whispered, surprised at how soft my voice was. "I wanted to tell you that your eyes… When I first met you I thought you might have been a god. Because your eyes were so perfectly dark. Incredibly beautiful." I subconsciously reached out a finger to touch his temple, then thought better of it and yanked my hand back.

In the dark, I saw his chest rise and fall. He took my hand again, bringing it to his neck. "You can touch me, if you want." His eyes glinted in the dim light from the window. "Can I touch you?"

I nodded, glad he couldn't see my face well. First he stepped closer, running a hand lightly over my stomach. He leaned in to kiss me gently, and I could finally reciprocate after the initial shock of his words. He pulled back and traced a finger down my throat, another skimming down my arm, careful to avoid the deeper bruises. I ran a hand through his hair, placed my second on his chest. His heart rate felt warm and slow and steady, whereas mine was probably on the verge of stopping altogether. He pushed me closer to the bed until I backed into it and he sat me down, pulling the covers down for us to slide under. His hands roamed over my chest, my stomach, my back, my thighs. Gentle and caring and loving. After minutes that felt like hours, we just lay under the thick grey sheets, quite close to each other, breathing the same air with his hand on my chest and my fingers playing with the tips of his hair. I felt his eyes piercing through me unblinkingly in the dark.

That was the first time in a long time that I fell asleep with ease.


	26. Chapter 26

It's been six months since we moved into the cabin. My fingers twisted the ring on my second-to-last finger, a skull wrapped in a wreath of holly, as I stared out the kitchen window into the forest. Joel played between the trees with two other children and Rick, our hellhound, party hats on all their heads. He laughed as Rick knocked the three of them over to lick them mercilessly, causing a smile to subconsciously form on my face. I can't believe he's six already. I didn't feel sad or remorseful about it. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Joel's growing so fast, learning so much. I just want to do everything I can to make him happy.

"You ok?"

I turned when Nico's hand was placed on my shoulder. I felt his own ring digging lightly into my back. We married four months ago in camp, the traditional Spartan way. The Spartan man was supposed to show his wife that he was strong enough to protect her by beating her in a wrestling match. The people in camp thought it was hilarious, because we were both guys. So it was both a test of our strength and the loss of someone's dignity. It was completely ridiculous: Nico and I were wearing the long wedding gowns of Sparta and crowns of hemlock and berries in our hair, circling each other, waiting for the other to make his move. Annabeth and Percy stood in the crowd with Joel, the three of them shouting and smiling with the rest of camp, while Calypso held a sleeping Elena in her arms, Leo beside her and Rachel peering over her shoulder curiously. The wrestling lasted about five minutes, by the end of which I was sweaty and panting and dirt-covered and probably flushed, and he was about the same. Close to the end, I was definitely winning, which was mostly due to my height. He looked so frustrated, so determined, though, that I let him eventually shove me into the dirt and pin my wrists down, calling the end of the match. I don't really care who wins, just so long as it ends and we're married. We panted together on the ground for a minute, and he glared down at me, his gaze full of suspicion. Everyone clapped and cheered and hooted, and I pecked his lips while he pulled me up just to effectively replace his frown with a cheeky grin.

Our godly parents had shown up for a few minutes, unfortunately at the same time. Apollo appeared in a flash of light as bright as the sun, just after Hades had emerged from a cave that formed instantly out of the dirt and sealed itself behind him. They shared wary glances, Apollo openly complaining that he was now even more related to "the god of zombies"- to which Hades replied that it was worse for him, who had to deal more often with the "Haiku-loving shaman child". A fuming 15-year-old Apollo clenched his fists and muttered some more insults. The campers all stood in uncomfortable and tense silence, unsure if they should run and hide or not. Luckily it didn't turn into a full-out god war. They were able to give us their gifts before it came to that. Apollo handed us a beautiful scroll, on which was written a poem surrounded by minimalist decoration.

A higher power  
Presides above all others  
All-knowing and just

Have faith in that which  
Works in silence and secret  
Unseen by the eye

Hades smirked when I read the Haiku out loud, and Apollo's face went slightly red. But I thanked him and hugged him, and was very surprised when he, after a moment, hugged me back in earnest. "I've never told you this," he whispered in my ear. "And I've not been there enough for you as a father. For any of you, really. But I love you. You've made me proud to call you my son."

I'd only ever been called son by Joel. This was entirely different. My heart ached all of a sudden with a lack of fatherly attention that spanned my whole lifetime. I had never acknowledged the desire for a father, because I had to be a father to Joel. But now it poured out of me like an unstoppable avalanche of emotion that made me squeeze him tighter, and he did the same.

Hades began to give his gift. Nico was being lectured privately by a stern and dangerous looking God of Medicine, so I received the gift for the both of us. It was a small stone statue of a Greek soldier with a taut stance and an unsheathed sword. On the bottom of the base of the statue, "Προστάτης" was written, which I translated immediately into English, "Protector". "Say the Greek word when you need help," Hades explained, glancing in Apollo's direction as he disappeared after his talk with Nico. "Thanatos, my second-in-command, will pass through it and fight your foes." He stared down at me with Nico's eyes and his lips in a firm line. "Persephone wants you both to visit at some point. She is convinced you will have children." And with that unsettling statement followed by a scoff, he, too, vanished into thin air, leaving me to process that sentence in stunned silence.

The following feast lasted hours into the early morning, accompanied by music-making nymphs and satyrs and dancing campers. Elena slept through it all, first in Calypso's arms while Nico and I danced for a while, then in mine so that Calypso and Theo- no, _Leo_\- could slow-dance. I sat with the baby under the pavilion by the huge campfire, Joel sleeping against my arm. It was about 2 a.m. I was thinking about heading back to the cabin with the kids- a bridge had been built across the lake, so I wouldn't have to shadow travel and Nico wouldn't have to constantly take me everywhere. Before I could decide to leave, Nico walked under the roof and sat across from me, a shadow against the light of the fire. He leaned close to gently touch Elena's gradually thickening hair, smiling as he did so. "I'm going to enjoy being a parent with you."

First that sentence made me remember what Hades had told me, and I felt my face heat up, at which he smirked smugly. Then I felt incredibly sad. I frowned, pulling her a little closer without disturbing Joel. "I am too. But everyone deserves a mother." I thought about what my dad said to me earlier, and then of how, when my mother lived with us, I constantly craved her love. Even when she was drunk and high, and throwing things and yelling and smoking and cussing at me. I'm glad she left before Joel was old enough for her actions to be committed to his memory.

We sat there for a long time, listening to the music and the crackling of burning logs. Joel's breath was a steady flurry of air down my arm, and Elena's tiny heartbeat thrummed in my chest. Nico stared at us, his fingers reaching out to trace down my temple a moment. "Two fathers are better than no mother," he whispered finally. And I had to agree.

Quintenn had visited that night as well. Just to tell me he was happy. And that he was happy for me too. "You won't believe what it's like," he whispered, his eyes taking on a far-away look. "An hour there is weeks here. I've never felt so... so consistently joyful." Suddenly, he wasn't the blood-sucking, half-dead Strigoi that I'd lived with for almost a decade. He was a depressed kid who had killed himself in a moment of inescapable sorrow, and had turned into a monster for it.

A thumb on my cheek brought me back to the present. Nico had grown slightly, though he still remained a couple inches shorter than myself. His eyes were that magnificent dark brown, captivating as always. I smiled at him and nodded in answer to his question. "I'm fine. Just a little tired." We'd gotten up early for me to bake a cake and for Nico to distract Joel in camp so he would be surprised later. I was able to get a discount on black olives from work. Joel loves black olives. I spent a few hours on the cake, during which time Mandy and Jake had arrived with impromptu birthday decorations that were just finished being set up when Nico carried Joel through the front door with two of his friends from school, pleasantly surprising him. Since then, he'd had cake and opened presents and played until the sun was slowly descending.

Nico pecked my cheek and pulled me lazily into the other room, where Mandy sat beside Jake on the couch, holding a larger and dozing baby. "Elena does nothing but sleep, doesn't she?" she asked, incredulity lacing her voice as she rubbed the baby's nose with a single finger lovingly. Jake leaned into her and stared down into the blankets. In the golden sunlight from the windows and in front of the fireplace, they were the image of a perfect family. They had announced, once they'd arrived, that they were pregnant. She giggled on about how the doctor said it was the size of a blueberry, and how she was going to buy baby furniture, and that she was going to pursue her dream of being a teacher and Jake was studying to be a computer scientist, and they would struggle with money for a little but eventually would have "a million kids and ten dogs!"

I personally didn't approve of children before marriage, just as a result of my past experiences and watching my mother. The relationships seem not to last if children aren't had through marriage. And if the relationship ends, the kids suffer from it as well. But I was happy for them. And they were my friends, and they were happy. Jake whispered to me that he was going to propose next month anyways, slipping a picture of the ring he'd ordered out of his wallet, glancing at Mandy adoringly while she was preoccupied with Elena. So I believed things would be ok.

An hour later, after hugs and kisses were exchanged, Mandy and Jake left for their shared apartment. Nico shadow-travelled the children to their houses. I covered the cake in foil and slipped it into the fridge, glancing at all the sticky notes covering the walls. This was a new system that Nico had invented for me shortly after we moved in. I still wrote in a journal (I'd gone through two more), but on the notes were facts about the house- where certain things were, what times I should do certain things, reminders. They were placed where they were relevant. For instance, there were three of them on the fridge, each reminding me to eat at 7:30, 12, and 7. For dinner, I didn't usually have to be reminded, since we all ate together. But I would literally forget to eat if I wasn't told to. This was only figured out once Nico noticed I'd lost ten pounds. These notes covered almost every wall in the house. At first I was kind of embarrassed when people came over. Then it didn't matter anymore, because they were working.

Joel hung his jacket on the hook by the door and slid his shoes off, calling Rick into the house. The back door had to be made a whole lot larger for the hellhound, and a massive dog bed invested in. Rick padded in, heading straight for his ginormous bed. I patted him lightly between his ears, and he hummed appreciatively. After picking up a still-sleeping Elena, I led Joel to the bedroom, listening to him chat about Susan and Caspar, his new friends. He helped me pull the covers over Elena, just as Nico walked into the dimly-lit room. He kissed her forehead and jumped into his own bed with his goofy smile and tired eyes, clutching his new stuffed toy.

"Thank you for cake," he said, his voice dropping low with sleep. "And the party. I love you."

I kissed his head and tucked him in tight. "I love you too. I'm glad you enjoyed your birthday." I stood to turn off the lamp, watching as Nico kissed Joel as well and they exchanged "I love you's". It made my heart wrench in the best way possible. Then we exited the room, flicking the switch to the hallway light as we walked through our bedroom door. The shadows of the few sticky notes here and there glinted across the floor and furniture. I yawned and stretched, and Nico used the opportunity to get close and kiss me. I tiredly kissed back, pretty much leaning all my weight on him. Today had been a long day. "Thanks for helping out with Joel," I murmured when we separated for a moment.

He chuckled at my slurred words, pulling me out of my clothes and into sweatpants, doing the same. He pushed me towards the bed. "It was fun," he responded as he pulled back the covers and lay me down between them. He then crawled on top of me and pulled the covers over us, supporting his weight while he kissed me. I was too tired to playfully complain. "Jason came by today to work on the Erebos temple. He says hi." He pecked my lips again before rolling next to me, and I curled against his warmth, only half-listening. "Percy and Annabeth sent an Iris message from Camp Jupiter to Chiron, apparently. They'll be coming to visit next month."

I hummed in response. His finger rubbed against the scar in my side left by Timor's dagger.

"I love you." He kissed my shoulder softly, holding me about my waist.

"I love you too," I whispered back, smiling sleepily in the dark.


End file.
